The Satyr
by kadashispen
Summary: I was once a night elf, but that was a long time ago. Now I am a creature known as a satyr. Unlike most satyr, I am not under demonic influence and I hope to one day return to the way that I used to be. The voices in my head tell me that I have a lot to accomplish before that happens. (Rated M not for explicit content, but just to cover my butt just in case)
1. Chapter 1

I remember it like it was yesterday. The day I was doomed, the day I was tricked. I remember the smell of freshly bloomed wildflower, of fresh dew beading and nourishing my saplings. I remember the sounds of the waters of the Well, calm and beautiful, gently humming with energy that allowed us all to flourish. I remember the colors of the palace, of gold and marble juxtaposed by the purples and browns of the trees that held it together. I remember the beautiful women who would visit my gardens, either to pick my fruit or to simply speak while surrounded by the beauty I provided. I remember my queen, more beautiful than any other, more precious and pure than anything my powers could create. I remember when I became a satyr.

What I cannot remember is my name, or what I used to look like. I was lowborn, I know that. A druid of unsubstantial skill or birth. The Great Cenarius was far too busy teaching and guiding the lowborne with true potential, so in a way, one could say that I was lower than even the lowborne, hardly worth anyone's time and energy. While others were tending to the groves, dancing with dryads, or protecting the forests, I was but a humble gardener. Perhaps it was to taunt and humiliate my masters, but I was still honored when the highborne recruited me to tend to the flowers surrounding the Well of Eternity. The handmaidens tended to the queen's personal garden and the gardens along the palace pathways. My charge was specifically the area around the Well. While they feasted and indulged themselves all around me, I worked tirelessly to see that the view was spectacular. Of course, this displeased my masters, and my lessons in becoming a better druid all but halted. I didn't care. For a few short months, my life was paradise. I couldn't speak to the highborne around me, nor could I avail myself of their pleasantries, but I needed none of it. The beauty all around me was what sustained me, and I was all to happy to continue that way forever.

I was ignored by the highborne for the first full season of my employ. I still remember the shock as all eyes fell upon me that fateful day. Like a deer catching a predator in the act of hunting it, I was frozen with fear. Queen Azshara called me by name. How I wish I could remember it, to allow that silken voice to say my name in my mind's eye again. Alas, it is lost to me, but I know that she did just that for I recall being incredibly flustered, wondering how she even knew of me when to my knowledge she hadn't even allowed her eyes to settle on me even for a moment all of the time I had been there. I slowly shuffled my way to her, suddenly aware of my every movement being watched and judged by what could have been ten or a hundred eyes. So blind was I to anything but her that I knew only that I was being evaluated by a number of the highest of the highborne. She spoke sweetly to me, complimented me on my garden, my pride and joy. She told me that the fruit picked from the nearby trees were better than anything her handmaidens have been able to produce within her personal garden. She offered me her own glass of mixed juices, prepared specifically for her from my produce. So nervous was I that my hand slipped, and it spilled into my beard. What...color was my beard? Did the juice stain it? I remember only that she giggled at my expense, and used her own cloth to dab at it. Her handmaidens didn't laugh...they only stared at me. I could see that they were as confused as I why the queen was treating me so, and they were much less happy about it than I. She sent me away then, promising me that next time the juice would make it into my mouth one way or another. She held my shaking hand when she said it...our eyes locked. To this day, I wonder what it would have tasted like.

Every day for the next week, the queen would make a point of greeting me as she passed by. She never stayed to speak, and by the time I had answered her, her gaze would be averted elsewhere. I suspect some saw it as some sort of personal insult, because my gardens were soon empty when she was not visiting it. It was not unlike the setting of a feast. Several minutes before she passed through, the area quickly filled with highborne, picking my fruit, gazing at my flowers, eating and drinking before the Well. She would pass through with whomever she happened to be speaking to at the time, pause to greet me, and shortly after she left, so did everyone else until there was only me. This was why I was so shocked when she came to see me for the last time, for none of this occurred. I was tending to a small cluster of white flowers when she suddenly spoke behind me. So surprised was I that I nearly fell onto them. I quickly rose and turned to her, bowing as I greeted her. She giggled...such sweet music, and introduced me to the one she was with. "I would like you to meet my High Councilor, Xavius." He was a strange looking one, to be sure. The first thing I noticed was that he had no eyes. Instead, he had red gems in his sockets, that seemed to glimmer as if he could actually see with them. He gave a slight bow, which was more than I expected considering our stations. He spoke with a smooth but muted voice that seemed to be comforting, but his words shook me. I was to no longer tend to my gardens. He told me that though I was a lowborne, I could be of assistance in other ways. The queen put a hand on my shoulder and looked into my eyes. I was immediately drowned in their beauty as she requested that I help Xavius with his experiments. How could I refuse?

The next thing that I knew, I was in chains. Lord Xavius and his apprentices and associates began using magic on me. The pain I felt every time was like a heated blade slicing deep, yet no blood was ever spilled. Over and over each of them would speak and prod at me with dark power. Every night they would hang their heads and claim that they were getting closer, but they weren't there yet. When I closed my eyes, I could swear that I heard the queen giving me words of encouragement and praise. I would feel her gentle touch on my body. I was chained aloft, her plaything. The place I was kept was always dark. When Xavius and the others were there, their rituals and spells lit the dark space in red, green, and blue hues. I do not know if the queen was ever there in truth...I suspect it was just dreams to hold my sanity in check. For all I know, the dark pleasures she shared with me in the darkness could have just been more of their experiments.

Time became a blur after that, much as it has become now. Xavius stopped coming to torture me, but every now and then his students and associates would come by and send new pains through my withered body for their amusement. This became my life until one morning, the maiden who would feed me putrid mush and bathe my broken body awakened me with a scream. One of the associates went to her, told her that I had been chosen, like the High Councilor. He went to me and grabbed me by my beard. I felt something pull on the top of my head and there was scraping above me. He asked me who my master was, but all I could think of was the pain he was going to bring upon me. I wished for escape, to be back in my beautiful garden. Then, something happened. Something within me snapped and suddenly I was aware that I was no longer in my prison. The Emerald Dream surrounded me. The vegetation was wild, a forest like nothing I had ever seen before with my waking eyes. I had only witnessed the Dream in brief glimpses before my training was put to an end, so the fact that I was there was surprising, but also filled me with relief. I thought that I was free. I was mistaken.

When I returned from the dream, I was no longer anywhere near the palace. The trees were ruined, the ground hard and barren. A battle raged nearby between lowbornes like myself and strange monsters. Some were gigantic and fearful, while others were only slightly larger than myself. A grove keeper, one of the progeny of Cenarius charged in my direction, and I instantly knew that he meant to kill me. I knew that I could not defend myself against him, and so I fell to my knees and shouted a surrender. He listened, but several dryads suddenly surrounded me and I was once again restrained. I was brought before the brothers, Malfurion and Illidan. As Malfurion interrogated me, Illidan would cut me. His blades burned against my flesh in a way that almost made the dark powers Xavius tortured me with seem tame. They asked me what my plan was, who I served. When I told them that my only plan was to escape and that I no longer served the queen, they asked me how I escaped the palace. I had no idea that a barrier had been put up around the palace, nor that a war had broken out at all. I told them that I used the Emerald Dream to escape. With that, Malfurion and Illidan left, and two warrior women came in, garbed in heavy cloaks. They stood guard as I remained restrained. I asked them many things, and they replied in short, cold sentences. It was then that I learned what I had become. Apparently, Xavius had been killed some time ago, and his dark god, Sargeras revived him as a twisted creature. He had been recruiting other lowborne like me, changing others into monsters. It was strange, I had been locked away in darkness for so long that I hadn't even thought to look at myself. It was true, I was no longer a lowborne...no longer even a night elf. I was something else...something defiled.

Some time later, they put something around my eyes and led me away. A deep female voice asked me if I wanted to die and be sent back to my masters. I pleaded for an alternative. I would rather return to the darkness where I didn't have to look at myself, safe from the ones who betrayed me. She told me that she would do just that. I was led underground, into the Vault of the Wardens, and imprisoned. Strangely, a short time later, Illidan was also imprisoned further in. The wardens wouldn't tell me why, but the fact that they refused to use his name and instead called him The Betrayer told me enough.

I don't know how long it's been since then. The darkness whispers to me sometimes, consoling me using the voice of my queen. Most of the time, however, I have only the sound of wardens walking by my cell, the echoes of their footsteps to listen to. So I sit in my cell, reliving my last months of freedom, the good and the bad. I have forgotten many things, my name, what I looked like, my life before I was recruited. I no longer remember the names of my teachers, if I loved anyone before the queen stole my heart. The whispers tell me that they weren't important anyway. I don't know where they come from if I am honest, nor why they comfort me even though they sound like my insane, backstabbing queen. I've tried asking the whispers, but they tell me that the answers aren't important.

I thought about asking the voices why it isn't important that I know these things, but suddenly something feels very wrong. What is it? I clack my twisted antlers against the stone of my cell. Is it a sound? Yes...I heard something just now. There are voices speaking down the hall. I hear the clamber of metal. Did someone escape? Surely the wardens will deal with it. I tell the voices not to worry, that soon the sound of footsteps will resume. The whispers tell me that I am mistaken, that several footsteps have already resumed, coming in this direction. I open my eyes for what feels like the very first time. There's a soft light outside my cell. Was that always there?

"Out of my way, wardens. I will release Illidan." "No, priestess. The Betrayer must not be allowed to leave. We will stop you."

I recognize one of those voices...the deep feminine one. Was she the one who sentenced me? I see a woman in a beautiful battle dress riding a white saber come to a stop near my cell. There are archers, and sentinels with her. I see...she is a sentinel. The whispers correct me, she is a priestess. I open my mouth and my own voice is alien to me. "Hail, Priestess. What brings you here?" Suddenly I feel very thirsty, and my heart is pounding. Why am I becoming so excited? The priestess looks to me. "Silence, demon. We seek to free Illidan, not to listen to a trickster." Free Illidan? The Betrayer?

"I meant no offense. Why is the Betrayer to be freed?" An archer raises an arrow mere inches from my face, but surprisingly, I do not flinch. Even more surprising, the priestess holds a hand up to stop her. "The demons have returned, more powerful than ever. We seek to free him so that the demon hunter may aid us once again." Returned? So they were driven away then? How long was I down here? The whispers tell me that isn't the correct thing to ask. They tell me to ask for my freedom. I don't know why I would want to leave, but the voices insist.

"I know where his prison lies, but what will I get in return?" I am told that I will be allowed to live. Personally that sounds agreeable, but the voices tell me to ask for more They give me the words to say. "Please, Priestess. I was not loyal to the demons last time they attacked. I am still loyal to Cenarius, despite my appearance. Take me with you...or at least unlock my cell so that I may leave after you have gone." The archer advises the priestess not to listen. Insolent wench! Wait...why am I angry? I would think the same if a creature like me asked such a thing. The priestess tells me that if what I say is true, she will consider it. I tell the whispers that we shouldn't push our luck. I think the archer heard me because she's looking at me strangely. "Turn down the next hallway and continue until you find three grove wardens. They each hold a piece of the key that goes to Illidan's cell. You'll have to get it from them somehow." I wonder how I know that, the whispers tell me to pay more attention. The priestess nods and leads her retinue away. I fall back into my cell and await their return.

I close my eyes, but more time must have passed than I thought. When I opened them, the door to my cell was wide open. She must have passed by already. I get up and look around the hallway outside. "So many corpses...did the priestess do that?" I stand up straight and wobble a bit. I am not used to having hooves. "My lady...how do I get out of here?" I am chided once again for not paying attention and am told that I will have to find my own way out. The ground trembles and a second voice thunders through my mind. It is not at all pleasant. I haven't got a clue what he said, the language is foreign to me. Something tells me that I need to leave, and quickly. The entire vault is falling apart.


	2. Chapter 2

The very walls around me tremble and shake, stones fall from the ceiling and echo in the distance. Something is getting closer, and it fills my heart with anxiety. I am like a child, stumbling and afraid in the darkness of this wretched prison. I pound my twisted fist against the wall and attempt to shout my frustration, but a gentle hand embraces me, calms me. The whispers console me, tell me not to allow the trembling of the world to frighten me. They tell me to look around, to take in every detail. The smooth stone walls, the polished floor. The floor is littered with corpses. The corpses, they are important. They are night elves, Kaldorei as I once was. They are not alone. Furred creatures are among the dead, and other more twisted beings like myself. There is something wrong with those beasts, they have a smell to them that reminds me of rotted eggs. Their fur glows slightly at the touch...what is this corruption? Are they like me? The whispers tell me that I should follow them. The trail of corpses...of course! The priestess was fighting before she appeared before me. She must have come from this direction. I praise my lady for her wit and like a hunter, I follow the trail.

I must say, despite my time in a cell, my muscles seem to still be quite limber. Despite having never hunted in my long life, it comes to me like second nature. My head and shoulders move on their own, and I almost can't keep from smiling at myself, playing predator like a cub. All too soon the trail comes to an end, putting a stop to my game. Strange, the exit to the prison has no guards, no bars or doorways. It simply leads out into an ancient looking cavern system, a barrow den. I recall that druids often slept in these dens while traversing the Dream or while living in their animal forms. I sniff the air and I can tell this barrow was populated until very recently. Bears, most likely the Druids of the Claw. Wait...I hear something, an echo within the caverns. It is the deep feminine voice again. She sounds stern, perhaps a fight has broken out? I remember that she and Illidan were going to leave the den and fight demons. That must mean they know of a way out. I resolve to follow them, but the whispers caution me. They tell me that my natural abilities to meld with the shadows would be useful. She truly is very wise, I never would have thought of that.

Following the path and the sounds of their echoing footsteps, I have found the priestess. Shan'do and The Betrayer are there as well. Strange, Malfurion seems unhappy to see his brother. I am curious what he did to be so distrusted by his kin, but for now my own survival comes first. I am not so foolish as to go anywhere near with the demon hunter freed. I do wish that I could speak to Shan'do Stormrage about my situation. He is the most powerful druid that I know of, surely he would know what to do. The priestess was kind, perhaps I could speak to her again? They've stopped now, but I am too far away to see why. I don't hear fighting. They seem to be lining up...of course. The exit to the dens were not built to be marched through. They must be at the exit. I will wait for them to leave and sneak out after them. I must be wary to keep out of the Betrayer's sight. They say that demon hunters can see dark magic through anything, even solid stone. I don't know if Xavius' magic still courses through me after all this time, but better to be safe. I am not eager to feel his blades upon my flesh again.

As I crawl from the barrow dens, I am blinded by the light. I am filled with bitter humor at Illidan not being able to have the same happen to him. I cannot resist a chuckle, but I am still unused to my voice. My laughter sounds like a sick bear coughing up its last meal. For some reason, this is even funnier to me and I double over into giggles. My happiness only grows and for a moment I am concerned as to why. Have I lost my mind at last? Suddenly it comes to me and I stand and take a deep breath. "Free! I'm free at last! Hah hah!" I burst into a clumsy jig and fall against the large roots of the den behind me. The feeling is like the brightness of the sun has entered my very soul and exploded outward. From the highborne's subjugation to my imprisonment by the queen and then again by the lowborn, I now suddenly realize that I have never known freedom as I do right at this moment. The whispers sound confused, they ask whether my freedom is truly such a momentous occasion? I laugh at her ignorance, not out of malice or bitterness, after all she probably doesn't know what it means to be enslaved. Of course it is! Finally, for this brief moment, nothing is hurting me, no one is hunting me. Considering my appearance, I tell her that such moments are sure to be a rarity until I can return to my true self. I must enjoy it to the fullest!

How I wish I had some juice or wine to go with my celebration. I temper myself and sneak to the nearby trees in search of nuts or berries. When I find them, however, I find that they turn to dust in my mouth and I sputter and spit them out. How vile this curse is, even now it robs me of simple pleasures. The whispers tell me that it is not so bad and she points out a small creature to me. It's a rabbit, white and furry. It's quite cute...plump...suddenly I'm salivating. I've never eaten meat before. It's not that druids frown upon that sort of thing or anything, it's natural for Kaldorei to be omnivores. It was the highborne who had disdain for it. Fruit, nuts, and certain vegetables were the only edible things to be found anywhere near the palace. I leap at the rabbit, and in an instant my claws tear through its flesh. It doesn't even scream. I wonder why it was so easy to catch when I realize that I had melded with the shadows during my leap. The rabbit didn't see me coming, and died instantly. This reassures me. If I am to eat living things, I would not want them to suffer. The whispers tell me not to bother with the emotions and feelings of my food. It is dead and will serve me as fuel, what it felt before that is irrelevant to me. I'm not sure I agree with that, but I do not say so. This rabbit is delicious. I ponder if I should try cooking it next time, but it tastes perfectly fine as it is...and while it unnerves me to say so, my sharp claws cut through it so cleanly that skinning the fur while I eat is almost like a game. I think I shall hunt down more rabbits before moving on. Perhaps I'll fashion together a few small pouches to hold my things. Clothes seem unnecessary, my fur is thick in all the right places. I am warm and covering my modesty at the same time, but I can't very well keep things in my fur.

I have eaten and slept. I am content and comfortable. I could remain like this forever, living off of the land. The whispers remind me that I still look like a monster, and would probably be killed on sight if someone caught me. That is a good point, I'm not the only one capable of melding with the shadows. I have taken some time to get my bearings, but much is different than last I saw them, and I was never much for travel. I think that I am somewhere to the North, perhaps in the mountains of Hyjal? I don't remember ever hearing about a gigantic tree in Hyjal before. I sense that the spirits have great affinity for it. I have found the trail left by the sentinels and I follow it to their camp. The Betrayer seems to be gathering a small number and heading west. Something tells me that there are demons in that location. I would not want to be confused as one of them, so I remain at the encampment. I sneak my way closer to the encampment and spy the priestess entering one of the lodges. I cannot simply enter, she would no doubt slay me in a heartbeat. So I move along its outer walls and see an entrance. I listen.

Malfurion is with her. They are speaking gently to each other. They must have been the ones fighting earlier, and now they are making up. I didn't know that Malfurion had a lover. They speak so tenderly, it is soothing to hear. More noises are coming from their lodge now, I no longer feel it is appropriate to keep listening. Part of me wants to stay and enjoy their music, and the whispers encourage me, but I feel too much respect for them. I sneak away, but I cannot help but enjoy the sounds they are making. Perhaps I'll wait until tomorrow. I find a nice tree not far from their encampment and dig a small hole at its base. It seems my claws are not just twisted murder weapons after all. They are good at maneuvering soil as well. Before long I have a bowl angled beneath the tree, its roots pushed aside enough to allow my large antlers through. I decide it best that my body go in first and my antlers lay out, disguised as roots. I feel quite clever as I use leaves to cover the entrance and settle into sleep.

I am awakened by a powerful pressure in my chest. I grasp at it and try to breath. I am in darkness. Am I still imprisoned? Was it all a dream? Who is my captor?! My head bursts from the ground and now I have leaves stuck in my antlers. It wasn't a dream. I sigh with relief. "Thank the gods, the spirits, and anyone else who may be listening." The whispers accept my gratitude and I laugh. Her clever wit never ceases to brighten my mood. I still feel that tightness in my chest and I look around. Many of the nearby trees have been destroyed, and the ground is turning hard. I remember this, from when the monsters invaded our forests before. In the distance I see three figures. One is dark and monstrously large, while the other two are smaller. I meld with the shadows, but am forced to stop at the forest's edge. The trees are barren near them, no shade to hide in. It is Shan'do and the priestess. They are speaking to the large monster. Malfurion is shouting at him. Even from here I can feel the disgust in his voice.

"At the cost of your soul? You are no brother of mine! Begone from this place and never set foot in our lands again!"

"So be it...brother."

The huge monster turns and leaves. The trees in his path ignite as he approaches and turns to dust in his wake. Was that Illidan? Is that what happened to The Betrayer? Despite myself, I feel a small amount of kinship toward him. He is like me, twisted by dark magic. The whispers tell me that we are not the same, that he chose his form in return for power. He chose this? Why? I would do anything to be rid of it and he willingly chooses to be turned into a monster? What good is power when you are hated by everyone? The whispers seem to sense my sadness and loneliness and attempt to console me. I feel her soft skin on my flesh and her sweet words in my ear. It doesn't really help, but I smile anyway. I begin to regret not staying the previous night, of not enjoying their music and then attempting to speak with them. They'll never listen to me now. The Betrayer has sealed my fate as well as his own. I sigh and turn away. I cannot bear to look at Shan'do and the priestess any longer. Their love breaks my heart.

I go south, away from Hyjal. The scent of corruption is getting stronger, but I no longer see the Kaldorei, and the spirits have fled. I begin to fear that I'll run into demons, be caught by monsters and tortured. Surprisingly, that is not what I find. My hooves and thick fur protect me as I cross a particularly thick collection of vines and shrubbery to find a young woman. She seems to have used magic to create a small pool of water for herself and is bathing in it. That's smart, I think to myself. The corruption has surely reached the water supply nearby, magic seems the safest way to clean yourself. I take a moment to study her. She is quite small, and her skin is pale. Her hair is golden like the sun and quite beautiful. She is not Kaldorei, I realize, but some other creature. She appears to be a sentient creature, and her body is not totally dissimilar to night elves or even myself. If she is a demon, she is a beautiful one. Oh dear, she's seen me now. I expect her to scream, but instead the water she'd been using to bathe now flies toward me. It has become ice cold and I am aware of sharp pain as I am forced backward and pinned, my lower body frozen against a tree. She rises and tells me to prepare for death and now I am begging for my life.

"Please, I am not your enemy, I am sorry for interrupting your cleansing. Do not kill me!"

She seems to have just realized that she is nude and scrambles to a pile of soft looking clothing nearby. I wonder what it's made of...it certainly isn't furs. She waves a pretty stick and a large creature made of water appears...I think it's looking at me. The whispers point out that I can still see the woman getting dressed through her minion. I'd forgotten that my mistress was so primal. Now it is my turn to chastise her. Now is not the time to be appreciating the beauty of others. Now the woman is dressed and she walks over to me, pressing a large gemstone affixed to her stick against my face.

"Now, you're going to tell me everything I want to know, or I'll send you back to your dark masters in pieces."

More pale creatures have appeared wearing strange metals. They must be her guards. Here we go again. Oh well, freedom was nice while it lasted.


	3. Chapter 3

The strange female's bodyguards have forced strange metal bracers to my wrists with a short bit of chain between them. Then, with the woman's help, they freed me of the ice that held me to the tree and are now leading me to one of their makeshift abodes. One of them keeps poking me in the back and calls me names. I am tempted to kick him, but I fear that if I fell over I would need help getting back up. As I enter one of their huts, I examine it. It seems to be made of some sort of thick cloth, certainly much more sturdy than the female's attire. The voices tell a dirty joke to that effect to me and I snort out a giggle. The female seems put off at me and has her guards force me onto my knees by kicking the back of my legs. Two more metal clad guards grab my chained hands and force them up, tying them to the center beam of this...I'm not sure what it's called. Ah, the whispers tell me it's called a tent. The guard seems to be having trouble getting around my new antlers. They are quite nice, if I say so myself, but I agree with the guard that they are quite a handful sometimes.

The woman is questioning me now. Who do I work for? How did I find their camp? What is it about me that turns everyone I meet into an interrogator? Must be a satyr thing I suppose. Everyone must think satyrs have a lot to hide or something. I tell her over and over the same thing I've told everyone. I don't work for Azshara anymore. I do not serve her new god, Sargeras. I am loyal to Cenarius despite my appearance. I also tell her that I found her only by chance. I am honest that I was merely trying to avoid the other demons. She listens to me, but looks unhappy. I am not familiar with her kind, so I don't know if it's anger or sadness, but there is certainly no joy in her face. She walks to the exit of the tent and speaks to one of the guards. My hearing is much keener than it used to be, probably from having nothing to listen to for gods knows how long but the clacking of warden footsteps on stone. She's asked for someone called Thrall to join her. The name strikes me as odd. It sounds...I don't know, wrong. That must be him coming now and...what? What in the name of the gods is that thing?!

This huge...green...thing has entered the tent! It is garbed in metal, not unlike the small guards, but its face is not covered by any helmet. It's...I don't know how to describe it. It's speaking with the small woman, they must be friends. How unfair! This big green monster thing gets to be all friendly, but not poor old me? I speak my objection, practically shouting.

"How come that big green monster is allowed to be walking around free, but everywhere I go, I get treated like I piss fire! Satyrs...don't piss fire do they?" I'm suddenly aware that I haven't gone to the bathroom since I turned into a satyr...demons must not need to use the bathroom. That's something I suppose. The woman looks shocked at first, then she tells the big green thing, who's staring daggers at me, that I claimed to not be loyal to Sargeras, but instead someone named Cenarius. Someone named Cenarius? How can she not know one of the greatest demigods of the forest? Big Green seems lost as well and asks me who that is.

"Who is Cenarius? I don't know what you two are, but surely you know of the night elves? Cenarius is one of their most powerful demigods."

They are whispering to each other now, as if that would stop me from hearing them. Thrall is saying that he was told by his soldiers that something called Grommash killed a night elf demigod some time ago. Cenarius killed? Preposterous! I cannot imagine such a thing would be possible. The green thing must be mistaken...or lying.

They continue questioning me for another two hours, but as time goes on, they ask less of myself and more about night elves. I admit to them that I cannot tell them much. I've been locked underground for what must have been a long time. After all, I'd never heard of creatures like the two of them before. I tell them about the priestess and Malfurion, and how they intend to fight the demons. At sunset, a third person enters the tent, garbed in a brown cloak with raven feathers. They refer to him as a prophet and tell him that they believe I am not under demon control. The prophet is skeptical and approaches. He is hesitant though I don't know why. I'm still bound to the pole, it's not like I can do anything to him. He tells me to close my eyes and I do so. I feel him place his finger and thumb upon my eye lids. Then...humming. The whispers, my mistress is singing. I'd never heard her sing before...it's quite beautiful. All too soon, the old man removes his hand and her singing ends. He looks at me, but his face is twisted...is that fear? Something in me stirs...I think I like seeing people afraid. I shake my head, I mustn't think like that. That's something a demon would think. The prophet turns to the others and speaks, not bothering to whisper.

"It is not a demonic presence I sense within him, but something far more dangerous. A demon's intentions are always clear...but the will that leads him is shrouded, unknown. Still, if it claims that it is peaceful, then perhaps it can be of use."

The woman asks what the prophet means and he turns to her.

"One of your scouts reported that Arthas was spotted Northwest of us. He is headed East, away from the invading demon army. I do not know what the fallen prince is doing here, but he must not be allowed to further aid the Legion's cause."

The woman seems to be suddenly anxious. The begins to speak, talk of herself going to speak with this Arthas, but the prophet shakes his head and puts a hand on her shoulder.

"No, child. You are far too important. You and Thrall will continue north and meet with the leaders of the Night elves. Only with your combined forces do you have any hope of stopping Archimonde."

The prophet turns to me then, but I can already guess what he's going to say. He wants me to go talk to this Arthas person and keep him from joining the demons. How am I supposed to do that? Whomever this prophet person is...I don't think I like him much.

"You are a satyr, a demonic servant of the Burning Legion. If you approach him, he will be hesitant to attack you. Learn what you can from him and encourage him to leave Kalimdor. We cannot hope to defeat him and Archimonde, and as long as he is here, we run the threat of him joining the fight. If he does, then we have no hope of victory."

I look up at the three of them then and frown. Why should I help these people? I'm still chained to a damned wooden pole! The whispers advise me to calm down...ah, my clever mistress has a plan. She gives me the words and, filled with confidence in her, I smirk my most dastardly smile.

"So, your salvation depends on this? Then I would be compensated. I don't want coin or anything. No, I want freedom and protection. I've spent...wait...what?!" My concentration is broken and my face breaks out into one of horror. "I've been...imprisoned for….ten...thousand...years? Mistress are you sure? That's...oh gods..." I hang my head as the whispers confirm themselves. "Ten thousand years..." I look up at them again. "I've been imprisoned for ten thousand years. I never want to be again. I may look like a satyr, but you three must be in charge right? I want your names on my protection, and that of Malfurion and the priestess if you can convince them." I think I'm crying now, it's getting harder to speak. If I sounded like a sick bear before, it must sound even worse now. My mistress is not comforting me, this must be her plan. Somehow, that hurts even more than learning of my own fate. I now know that I still have a heart, because it shatters at the absence of my Mistress. "Please...I don't want to be put back into the darkness. Promise that I will not be imprisoned again. If you do that, protect me from a cell, then I will do this deed."

There is silence for a moment, but then Thrall puts a fist to his chest.

"I know what it is to be imprisoned, to be a slave, and to be persecuted for my demon heritage. I cannot imagine living that for ten thousand years. You have my word as Warchief. You shall see no Horde prison."

The woman is hesitant, but says that she will go along with Thrall and approaches to unshackle me. It stand and rub my wrists and wipe the tears from my eyes. I smile and thank her. The prophet seems to be trying to analyze me for a moment, then turns and leaves the tent. "You will find him to the North. Jaina and Thrall will lead their people Westward before heading North as well. If you live, then seek us at the foot of Mount Hyjal." A flash of green light fills the tent and then the flapping of wings. The man knows the secrets of the Talon? Strange...he didn't look like a night elf to me. Thrall approaches me and puts a hand on my shoulder. It's heavy and his gauntlet causes the kind gesture a bit of pain, but I smile anyway. "What is your name, Satyr?"

"I have long since forgotten it. If it is important that I have one, then before we meet again, I will have thought of one." In truth I shall likely have to consult the whispers on a proper name, but I get the feeling that if I told them that I have voices that speak to me in my head, they would be less inclined to grant me the promise of freedom. I may be insane, but I am not foolish. In fact, I'm fairly sure that I'm insane. Never mind the fact that I have voices in my head, but did I just agree to go speak to a powerful servant of demons? I had really been hoping to avoid any contact with them.

I ate and rested at Jaina's camp until I was awakened in the gray hours of dawn by the sounds of the humans breaking camp. They are heading in the very direction I came from, while I am heading directly North. My path is far easier, but my task is not. If all goes as planned, I can follow the ridges West and meet with them in the corrupted forest. I wish I had better directions than just heading North though. How am I supposed to find one being in this forest?

I travel Northward for perhaps half an hour before finding a well traveled road. It travels west a small ways and then North alongside a river. The whispers suggest that I keep off the road and instead travel by the shadows of the trees, remaining melded. We do not know how powerful this person is, but it is certainly more powerful than I am. I agree and travel on the opposite side of the road. An hour of walking passes by when the road meets a bridge that crosses the water and continues East. I contemplate crossing it, when suddenly I feel a powerful presence. It is not unlike when I felt The Betrayer's presence when he became a demon, but it was colder, as if I'd been frozen by that human woman again.

Then, a rider mounted upon the bones of some unknown animal leaped from a small hill North of the path and landed on my side of the bridge. Suddenly there was no doubt in my mind. This was who I was sent to distract. Arthas. The pale human kicked at his skeletal mount and they crossed the bridge. How was I going to stop him?! I couldn't let him get away. The whispers guided my hand. The tips of my clawed fingers glowed green and purple and I swiped them as if I were a cat pawing at his new toy. I instantly recognized this as druidic magic. That's right...I was a druid. I didn't know if those powers still answered to me, but it seems that if anything they were even stronger. Roots burst from the ground and latched onto the dead animal's legs. The skeletal beast was halted in its tracks, sending its rider off of its back. It had been galloping at full speed and forced to a complete stop, but even so, its rider did not travel far. He also wore armor, but more impressive was that he held onto his sword even as he landed face first. I ran across the bridge and out into the open, losing my cloak of shadow.

"So, you're Arthas then? You don't seem that impressive. But then, you did just fall off your beast."

The pale man rose and turned to me, his eyes like frozen daggers. With a wave of his hand, his beast fell apart and the bones flew to him, reforming next to him. He did not mount it, however, but instead approached me.

"Foolish demon, do you know who you mock? I am Arthas, King of Lordaeron, Death knight to Ner'zhul."

I don't know what he's talking about, but the prophet said he wouldn't attack me right away. I cross my arms and try to look confident, put on a smirk.

"Good for you. You're not a demon though. They are busy taking the place over while you and your beast ride around in the forest like a frolicking elf." I miss watching the queen's handmaidens frolic. I never partook in such things of course, but considering this person's bravado, it seems a serviceable taunt. The death knight stops then and raises a hand. I feel a tightness around my neck and I am lifted off of the ground. I am carried before him, my arms can't move. I'm paralyzed before him and choking. I want to grab at the invisible force holding me. I want to use my magic. I want to cry out for help. I come to a stop only a foot or so away from him. Due to the size difference, even though I am barely off the ground, he is eye level with my crotch. Despite my situation, I find this hilarious and I choke out a laugh. The death knight raises his weapon then.

"Laugh while you can, demon. Ner'zhul has foreseen your Legion's defeat. Now, with the Skull of Gul'dan destroyed, you have no hope of victory. Soon, this world will belong to my Master." He lowers me down and presses the tip of his weapon against my belly. "You know, I wonder what would happen if Frostmourne fed upon a demonic soul? Let's find out, shall we?"

I am paralyzed and cannot stop him as he pushes his blade into me. As it cuts into me, I feel my flesh freezing. Ice runs through my veins and a deep thrumming fills me head. A deep, graveled voice reverberates through my head. Gods it hurts!

"Your soul belongs to me. You serve Ner'zhul. You will obey. Your life belongs to Ner'zhul."

I scream out in pain as wounds tear open all over my body. My vision tunnels down and is shrouded in a purple haze. I feel my spine cracking and twisting. Two black tentacles, like that of a giant octopus reach around and wrap around the blade. Slowly, the tentacles pull out the sword. Then, I hear my Mistress. It is not in my head, but all around me, a chorus of my Mistress's angered voice shouts out.

"This soul does not belong to you, Death Knight. He is mine, now and forever!"

I feel Arthas release me from his magical grasp as he stumbles backwards.

"What...what are you?!"

I cannot answer, but my Mistress answers for me.

"Flee Kalimdor, servant of Death!"

Arthas quickly mounts his steed and begins galloping away. As he rides, he turns back and waves his blade.

"This isn't over! I will find power beyond yours. All will serve the Lich King!"

The moment I no longer see Arthas anymore, I look at my hands and examine my body. Already the wounds are closing and the tentacles are sinking into my flesh. The wounds glow with strange colors, like the shimmering of pearls in moonlight, but the flesh surrounding the wounds are black and purple. I grasp at my head and let out another scream as I curl into a ball on the road.

"What is this nightmare?!"

I claw at my skull, drawing blood and pulling out hair. My broken mind cannot take this. It is bad enough that I'm a satyr, worse still that I was caged for ten thousand years. Though the whispers in my mind give me comfort and have helped me piece my mind together again, I am not so foolish as to think it not a symptom of my insanity, but this?!

"What am I?! Who am I?!"

My mental breakdown is halted by singing. I hear it...all around me. It echoes in the breeze, and reverberates in my mind. My Mistress is singing to me. I clutch at my heart and fall over into the dirt.

"My Mistress...my Goddess...please...make it stop...I just want it to stop."

I burst into tears and I cry until her singing has lulled me to sleep. When I awaken, it is nearly dark. I rise and turn in the direction of the corrupted forest.

"Thank you Mistress. I think I know who I am now. I was nothing until you found me. I still may not amount to much, but I can feel your presence inside me. My name should represent that, and all that I am. I am not just a satyr, I am your servant. My full name shall be Morlox Shallaxas. Is that agreeable with you, Mistress?"

My Mistress is snickering at me, thinking I'm making a big deal out of nothing. She also doesn't approve of me naming myself "corrupted satyr of chaotic shadow". I sigh and hang my head. Maybe the priestess can come up with a better name. I thought it was cool. The whispers laugh at me all the way to the corrupted forest.


	4. Chapter 4

I have nearly completed my trek through the corrupted forest. I have kept to the road, but off to the side so as to take advantage of the shade of the twisted trees. As I have traveled, I have noticed several small groups of satyrs abandoning the demon camps and disappearing into the woodlands. Perhaps I am not the only one? They could be allies. The whispers tell me otherwise, that though they choose not to obey their demonic masters, they are still evil inside. I suppose she would know best, I certainly cannot tell the difference. Soon I reach the foot of Hyjal to meet a horrifying sight. The entire lower canyon leading up the mountain is filled with demons. My chest burns as my eye settles upon a truly gigantic creature with blue skin. A deep, male voice thrums inside my head like a booming shout in a deep cavern. Archimonde...I do not know this other voice, but I do not like it. It is harsh and cruel, not like my Mistress. I climb the nearby rocks and hide, watching them. There are dead creatures moving among them, strange rotted monstrosities. There are giant spider-like creatures, imps, and many other horrific beings all serving the demons. Skeletal dragons perch atop the nearby hilltops surrounded by winged monsters that seem to shift from flesh to stone. These must be the Legion that the prophet spoke of.

I must get around them, warn them about the sheer size of this horde. I saw all three of the forces that the prophet claimed could defeat the Legion and I am doubtful. If victory is to be had, then it will be slim at best. I try to look around and find a way to slip past them, but they have filled the entire area and are burning as they go. It is an odd sight to see beautiful trees and soft, fertile ground ahead of Archimonde, but be left with ash and blighted land in their wake. Is this what my homeland looks like now I wonder? Strange, I never spared a thought to think of home before. I barely remember what it used to look like, but what little I do recall...I would not want to soil it by thinking of it as becoming a wasteland. I slowly trail the demonic armies for several minutes, trying to find any way to get around them. They are moving so slowly, it will be well into nightfall before they get anywhere close to Hyjal. Night fall...ah! My Mistress has a cunning idea. It is dangerous though. Could I pass myself off as being a demon? Why not, she reasons, I already look like one. I need only be casual about passing through their horde. If I do not attract attention, I should be fine...right? I hold my breath as I leap from my clearing and very quietly merge with the undead crowd.

These skinless creatures that move on all fours do not seem to even notice me. It is simple to slide around them, and easier still to move under the arms of the massive stitched horrors. The smell is unbearable. The demonic smell of sulfur and brimstone has mixed with rot and decay in a most awful miasma. It is no wonder I see no other satyrs in the ranks, how could one hope to stand this awful scent for this long. As I get closer to the front, I take careful steps to keep my distance from Archimonde. I reason that if anyone would see through my deception, it would be their leader, but honestly I am just too afraid to get close to him. What if he takes my mind over, destroys my Mistress? I could not have that.

The demons travel at a snails pace for hours. Were they not in the way, I would easily have been at their camp already. But I cannot break ranks. There is a flaw with my plan to sneak through at the fall of night. The doomguards and other larger demons carry flame with them, and the trees ahead of us burn and become searing coals by the time we cross over them, leaving a trail of light both ahead and behind us. I look upward and try to look at the stars through the smoke. How could it have come to this? Hyjal wasn't my home, but it was still beautiful. Wait...something is blinking beyond the smoke. That is no star. I frantically look around me. All of the undead and demons are facing forward, marching mindlessly. They would never think to look up! I turn my head to the sky again and squint. I swear that I recognize it...yes! That blinking light is magic being cast! Someone is watching! I need to get free of the train, to get that person's attention without arousing suspicion. Is slowly make my way to north side of the marching army and move in front of one of the stitched horrors. Like everything else, it is facing forward, not down. With it blocking view of me, I slip swiftly between two rock and sidle my way into the mountainside. I then hold up my hand and look up. I use my druidic magic to cause my hand to glow green and yellow, flashing it to get the person's attention. Roots begin daisy-chaining their way up the mountainside. I will not allow my one hope of reaching the others in time slip from me. Please! Please notice me!

"By the gods, you scared me to death!"

A harsh female whisper behind me. I spin to see Jaina standing before me, a shimmer of blue fading behind her. She must have teleported.

"You recognize me then, Miss Jaina?"

"Only just. I thought that you were a scout that had seen me. I was about to freeze you in place when I noticed that there were no other satyrs in the entire train."

I sigh with relief and move to sit down, but she grabs my arm. Before I can react, the two of us are enveloped in blue and suddenly we are back atop the mountains looking down on the invading forces. Half a dozen soldiers are there as well and a few of them rise and unsheathes their swords before Jaina eases them. I follow her to the fire and sit down, despite the glares I am getting from beneath the helmets of the men. Jaina sits across from me on a log and a pale elf gives her a platter of food. She then asked me to tell her about my encounter with Arthas. I thought about it and decided to omit the part where my body ripped open and tentacles came out of my back. It didn't seem like something she'd want to hear while eating nor like something I'd like to say while surrounded by soldiers with hands on swords. So instead I muddled the truth somewhat.

"When I confronted Arthas, he said that his master, Ner'zhul, had forseen Archimonde's defeat and he wasn't there to help at all. He said something about destroying the Skull of Gul'dan and cutting off Archimonde from getting reinforcements. I don't really know what that means though. He was going to kill me then for knowing too much, but I melded with the shadows and made him think that I had run away. Then I watched him continue heading East."

She listened to my report while she ate, then paused and looking into the fire. It more looked like she was looking through the fire, perhaps lost in thought.

"How did he...seem...to you?"

I crossed my arms and leaned back a bit to think about it. He definitely didn't look much like a human anymore. He was pale and smelled of death. Then there was the sword...and that horrible voice tearing at my skull. Finally I shook my head.

"I didn't know him before, but he was barely human. The voice in his head is far less comforting than mine. I much prefer my Mistress."

I don't think she heard me. She just keeps looking at the fire. After an uncomfortably long pause, she asks the pale elf to give me some food as well. He didn't seem happy about it, but I got a bowl of stew and happily drank it down. I'm beginning to rethink not cooking those rabbits from the other day. Perhaps if my diet is going to be restricted by my curse, I should learn to cook the things I can eat properly. Oh well, problems for another day. After I finish my bowl, Jaina points to a tree within sight of the camp and says that I should sleep there so the men don't get paranoid about me. I nod and head to the tree and close my eyes. I do manage to sleep, but I am interrupted some time in the night by the sounds of crying. I open my eyes and the camp is dark. There are two guards watching the legion down below and the others are sleeping in tents. The crying is coming from the largest one. I recognize it as being Jaina's voice. She's trying to be quiet about it, but I can hear her perfectly. The guards have their heads covered, so I can't tell if they hear her too. My Mistress tells me that I should go console her, but I disagree. What comfort could she possibly gain by having a strange demon enter her tent in the middle of the night? My Mistress insists that I try, so I get up and move toward the tent. I refuse to go in as it would only cause a scene, so instead I go to the side of the tent that I hear her the best and sit down.

"Lady Jaina...why are you crying?"

I am quiet, not wanting to attract unwanted attention. I can tell that she heard me. She tries to go quiet, but fails to contain her sobs.

"Leave me, demon...you couldn't understand."

I try to convince my Mistress that I shouldn't pry, but she tells me that I must continue and I sigh.

"You weep for Arthas. Did you love him?"

My Mistress didn't have to tell me. I'd seen a broken heart before. I felt the same when my queen betrayed me to Lord Xavius.

"I...I don't know, but he was my friend, my prince. We grew up together. I watched him become what he is...I could have stopped him. I could have stopped this all."

I'm no good at this. I sigh and sit back a bit. I understand how she feels, but I don't know of a way of helping her, of telling her that this isn't her fault.

"My lady...let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, there was a gardener. He grew flowers for his queen. Every day he would tend to the flowers thinking himself lucky just to exist on the same soil as his queen. He was not talented or special...just an ordinary man with an unassuming job. One day, the queen took notice of him and it was love at first sight for him. He worked all the harder knowing that she would see his flowers, and every day she would comment on their loveliness. The gardener gave his all for his queen, and she accepted it all with grace and beauty. Then one day, the queen invited the gardener home with her. She took him to her personal quarters and the gardener believed he was in a fairy tale about to live happily ever after. However, men were waiting for him in the queen's chambers. The queen had been hiding a great evil in her heart. The gardener had been blinded by his love and her beauty, but all too soon it was all stripped away from him. His home was destroyed, and he spent countless nights alone, crying in solitude. What could he have done differently? How could she betray his love? The queen vanished and only whispers have been heard of her since, but if you listen closely, when you're sad and alone, you can sometime hear the gardener weeping. Some say that the morning dew comes from the plants themselves, crying with their master. They want him to know that he isn't alone anymore."

I realize that I'd become lost in thought, turning my own past life into a fairy tale. I am about to apologize, but I cannot hear her crying anymore. It is replaced with the sound of soft, restful sleep. I smile and notice that I have tears in my eyes. I wipe them away and as I stand to walk back to my tree, I whisper to the tent.

"You aren't alone, Lady Jaina...and neither am I."

I lay down at the base of the tree and fall asleep. I am awakened by the sound of much movement. It is late in the morning and the humans are packing quickly. Jaina tells the men that she is going on ahead and teleports away. I turn toward the canyon and I can see that the Legion is nearly through the canyon and reaching the path to Hyjal. I am about to head in that direction when a hand I placed on my shoulder. I turn to see a man in heavier looking armor and no helmet behind me. He has a large hammer at his hip and I relax knowing that it isn't in his hand.

"Listen, I want to thank you for what you did last night. She's been like that since Stratholme. The poor girl has been through far more than she should be."

He moves his hand from his shoulder and holds it between us. I am unfamilar with what he is trying to do, so I put my hand out as well. He chuckles and takes my hand and moves it up and down. Strange, I quite like this action. It feels like someone finally doesn't want to kill me. He senses it too and laughs.

"It feels weird for me to be shaking your hand too. I mean a demon and a paladin. Who would have thought, eh?"

He releases my hand and then gives a salute.

"My men and I were ordered to vacate weeks ago, but with the orcs and the demons and all, this is the first chance we've gotten. We've got a ship waiting for us, so we need to get going, but if you're ever in Stormwind, look me up. The name is Stoutmantle. Gryan Stoutmantle." A soldier comes up to him and salutes, saying that gryphons have arrived to carry them to the ship and the paladin turns and walks away. I watch him mount a strange golden bird with the head of an eagle and the body of a lion with talons for paws. He and his company fly away. I've never heard of Stormwind, but it sounds nice. I turn and I head toward Hyjal.

I arrive at the end of the path and before me I see a trail of destruction. Surely over a hundred humans lay dead before me, their towers and buildings in ruins. I break into a run, ignoring the errant ghouls I see feasting on the dead as I head up the trail. The green skins apparently also had a base, and it too was destroyed. I continue running, heading up into the cradle of the giant tree. As I reach the top, I look down and see Malfurion, the priestess, Jaina, and Thrall looking over the base of the tree. Ahead of them, Archimonde has taken hold of the tree and more wisps than I could ever hope to count are swirling around him. I am then knocked off my feet by a powerful shock wave and fall flat on my back a few feet back. When I sit back up, the forest is burning in every direction and the tree's bark seems singed and burnt in places, but it still stands, and Archimonde has vanished. A great cheer is cried by the remaining combined forces at the night elf base a bit further on.

I stand up and cheer as well. They did it! The demons have been defeated again. Finally, for the first time since leaving my cell in the vault, I feel at peace inside. I look down at the overhang and Jaina is waving to me. I head down and she introduces me to Malfurion and the priestess. The two nod and Malfurion steps forward.

"Tyrande told me of a satyr who helped her in the vaults. Misguided as her actions were, you have my thanks for aiding her. Our new friends also say that you undertook a great risk to aid us in this final battle, and seek freedom as payment." With that, he looked to the priestess, Tyrande. She steps forward to stand by Malfurion's side.

"I remember you, satyr. It was by Elune's will you were allowed to be held in the vault. I believe our Goddess sent you to aid us, in the shadows, disguised as an enemy. Henceforth you shall have the title of Xalune'dorei, dark child of the moon. What is your name, Xalune'dorei?"

I kneel before the two, as it seems appropriate to do so.

"Forgive me, but I long since forgot my name during my time in the Vault. The voices would have you give me one."

Tyrande seems to lose composure for a moment, but then nods.

"Then rise, Xarun Moonshade. For reasons unknown, our Mother Goddess has taken your form from you, and you may never return to your true self. But be at ease knowing that we priestesses will see you as Xalune'dorei. You will not see the Vaults ever again."

I stand up and smile at the priestess. "Xarun Moonshade...my name is Xarun Moonshade. Thank you, Priestess. I will not forget this kindness."

The priestess nods and Malfurion says that there are still other matters to discuss and that I should go and celebrate with the rest of the men at the base. I bow to him and make my way to the base. No longer am I hunted or hated. Now I am Xalune'dorei, Dark child of the Moon.


	5. Chapter 5

After Archimonde's defeat, celebrations went on all through the night. I introduced myself to the priestesses of Elune and told them of Tyrande's decree. I was surprised by how readily they went along with their high priestess's decision to allow me to be as one of their priests. I was also directed to the druid general, Fandral Staghelm. He was...much less happy about the entire situation and was quite vocal about it. He went so far as to claim that I would never be accepted as a night elf again and that he would tell the druids of Moonglade not to allow me to resume training as a druid. After the scene he made, I decided that I may be better off avoiding him if at all possible. Jaina and Thrall seemed busy with their own celebrations, so I remained with the priestesses when I could. I did manage to sneak to the Horde's area and swipe some meat. As much as I enjoy the company of scantily clad women devoted to a motherly goddess, the fact that fruit and vegetables taste like ash continues to vex me. Then, at the end of all of the celebrating, I fell asleep in a bed for the first time in ten thousand years.

I awoke in the morning to find the druids and sentinels already active in cleaning up camp. The humans and Horde were saying their farewells. Jaina and Thrall were atop the hill overlooking camp, speaking to Malfurion and Tyrande. I made my way there as well, but kept a polite distance. I was finally accepted back into normal society, I didn't want to do anything that would risk losing that. The whispers say that I'm just being paranoid. I don't disagree with her, but I wait all the same. After only a few minutes, Jaina and Thrall turned and saw me. Jaina simply smiled at me as she past, but Thrall patted my back again with that heavy gauntlet of his. I had to brace myself just to keep from falling over. When Tyrande and Malfurion approached, I bowed deeply to them in a traditional druid greeting.

"Elune-Adore Shan'do, Priestess."

Tyrande nods to me and Malfurion holds up a hand in greeting.

"Hail, Xalune'dorei. Was there something you needed?"

I rise from my bow and let my arms relax by my sides.

"Forgive me, but I wondered what our next course of action was. I had hoped to continue my druidic studies, but General Staghelm has made it clear that it would be...difficult for me to do so."

Malfurion smiled at me and shook his head lightly.

"Ah, you must forgive Fandral. He has fought far more than just demons, and lost more than just his home. These things have made him overprotective of what he has left. However, I have spoken with the tauren, Cairne Bloodhoof, and we have agreed to allow a number of them to become druids as part of the Cenarion Circle. Their teachings of the Earthmother are very similar to the teachings of Cenarius. I am certain that once they have settled, a teacher will be found for you."

I am surprised by Malfurion's decision, not because I have anything against the Tauren, but because it flies in the face of General Staghelm's beliefs. After the fuss he made about me, a former night elf, becoming a druid, allowing Tauren in could only make him angrier. Still, this works in my favor, and I bow to Malfurion again.

"That is comforting to hear. Until then, I will study on my own as well. I sense that my powers are not the same as they once were. The...gifts granted to me may have altered them to appear like those of the enemy. I will keep my studies small until a teacher can be assigned to me."

Malfurion nods.

"That may be best. I suggest that you keep company with Tyrande's priestesses until then. Elune's most devout will protect you from the suspicions of others. For now, we make for the Moonglade, where our druidic abilities will be stronger and aid us in healing the land. The Burning Legion has left us with no small amount of cleaning to do. It may be decades before the land is properly healed."

"Very well, Shan'do. I will do my best to stay out of the Circle's way and hone my gifts under the protection of the priestesses. Ande'thoras-ethil, Shan'do."

Malfurion repeated my farewell and I went down the hill. It was heartening to know that I would be able to not only hone my skills, but I would soon be taught properly once again. Before I became a satyr, my powers were so negligible that I was better off a gardener than a proper druid. Now, I am in unknown territory. When I re-live my encounter with Arthas in my mind, when I think about the few druidic abilities I have tested so far, the only conclusion is that I am far more than just a gardener now. I consult the whispers on this and she agrees that I am certainly more than I once was. I wonder if Tyrande is right in thinking that the voices I hear is actually Elune speaking to me. The whispers laugh at this and say that perhaps it is best let everyone believe that. I can't help but feel that putting it that way was ominous, but I let it go for now. At least I know that I'm not completely mad.

Before long, the night elves finish packing and we get into formation to leave. Malfurion and Tyrande lead the train with the sentinels behind them. General Staghelm and the druids take the rear, trailing energy behind them as a foothold for their powers when we reach the Moonglade. The priests, priestesses, and I travel in the center, protected on all sides by the others. The few males in the priesthood and I share company with druids who seem to have lost much of their power. Ignorant as I am on much of what has been happening around me, I walk alongside one of them and we speak for some time. Her name was Kiri Treemender. She, and the other druids that walked with us were once druids that tended to the saplings of Nordrassil, the Trees of Life. I ask her what was Nordrassil and she gives me a strange look before pointing behind us as the scorched gigantic tree. We spent the entire day and night marching to the Moonglade, and the two of us spoke the entire way. Her confusion at my ignorance became eccentric delight as she regaled me with Night Elf history. Strange, I always thought history to be a dry, boring thing to recount, but not to hear her tell it. I was anything but bored as we made our way to the Moonglade.

When we arrived at the Moonglade, Kiri and I made our separate ways. While she and the other Druids of the Tree of Life were now much less powerful, they still had skills to lend to the other druids. The sentinels began fortifying the area and I heard them planning to send hunting parties out to get rid of any remaining demons that may be lurking in the corrupted forest. Unfortunately, there really wasn't a place for the priesthood in the Moonglade. It was the home and base of operations for the druids, well now the Cenarion Circle I suppose. The priesthood and were guided to a collection of ruins on the southern side of Lake Elune'ara and have been asked to remain here by the town's leader, a night elf named Rabine Saturna. I have found a small nook behind a fallen wall and have decided to dig into it a bit to create a small cave. I am not sure why, but I feel the need to have a place of my own. Perhaps I don't feel quite welcome in General Staghelm's territory, or perhaps my appearance simply leads me to seek privacy. It may even be the fact that after ten thousand years, I'm still not at home above ground. In any case, the priestesses are accommodating to my behavior, and that is all that I could ask of them. I am happy that my claws are so good at digging, for I have created a small den fit for a bear in time for lunch. I am being told that hunting and eating meat isn't allowed in the Moonglade and my mood drops considerably. I understand it of course, the dryads and grove keepers I see in the distance would not appreciate me eating their forest friends. Luckily, I still have some rabbit in my bags. I don't have to search the area long to find a few seeds for use in training and I retreat into my den and keep working at it. Soon, I have a small nook where I can put my rabbit skin sacks. This is of great relief to me as before I had them tied under my beard and I didn't realize how uncomfortable that was until I had them all untied. I shall not be doing that again. I make a small area where I can plant the seeds and work on my skills, and even a place to eventually put a fire pit. I'm having such fun decorating and making a proper little home for myself. It's been so long since I had a place to call my own, and with nothing else to do, it seemed like as good a time as any. Finally, I am finished and the place has become quite warm with all the moving I've been doing. I sit and rest for only a moment before I take one of the seeds and go to my little training plot. I bury the seed and hold out my hands to it, as if warming them to a fire. My fingertips begin to glow purple, I can feel power coursing through me. I think I could-

"You need sunlight or it won't grow very well."

"Elune's tits! You scared me!"

I jumped so hard that my antlers have become stuck in the ceiling of my den. I hear feminine giggling behind me and I recognize it instantly as being Kiri's voice. It takes a bit of strength, but with a grunt I pull my antlers out of my roof and wipe the dirt off of them, turning to look at Kiri. She's holding her side with one hand while pointing at me with the other and laughing at me, her face down and eyes shut from the strain of her laughter. The whispers guide my eyes to her jiggling torso and I am momentarily lost in watching her attractive grapefruits move. Luckily I am able to break their hypnotizing hold over me in seconds and I put on as stern of a face that I can muster, which is not easy considering her laugh is becoming infectious.

"Kiri, announce yourself next time. You don't know what I could have been doing."

She slowly calms herself and wipes a tear of laughter from one eye.

"I did announce myself, but you were so busy that I guess you couldn't hear me. I must say that I was disappointed to find all that racket was just you digging out a shelf."

Her wit strikes me dead on and I sit down, embarrassed. She then moves her hand from pointing at me to the seed I buried.

"Anyway, if you plant that down here without any sunlight, it will take more energy to make it grow and even then it won't stay healthy for very long. You should dig a sky light if you want to do that in here."

I frown and look at the ceiling over my practice area. I hadn't thought of that and the area isn't fit for a hole. It could weaken the structure of the den and cause a collapse.

"Does it have to be sunlight?"

She puts a hand to her chin then and leans against one of the walls, one leg bending up while the other lays long across the exit.

"Well, I think if you used water from a moonwell, that could substitute, but you'd need a fair amount even for a small sapling without any sunlight. I'll go see if we have any spare jugs or buckets. I'm sure the priestesses won't mind blessing a little bit of the water to help with your practicing."

She looks up at me then and I see a glint of mischief in her eye.

"But as soon as we do that, you have to tell me why you're practicing to be a druid in this little cave, it'll be your turn to tell me all about your history. I wanna know all about how you know druid magic, but you're practicing it in this little cave instead of up the hill with the other druids."

With that, she turns and crawls out. The whispers and I agree that it was quite a pleasant viewing as well. I wait until she's out before following her to be polite, but as soon as I'm out, I see her change into a wild cat in a puff of smoke and green light. She then sprints back down the trail toward the buildings up the hill. I must have underestimated her. Though she's weakened compared to the other druids, she certainly does not lack in skill. I patiently wait for her return, and she does so with an urn nearly as large as herself tied to her back with vines that seem to be coming from her clothing. The vines fall away and disappear in a green glow as I take the urn from her and fill it at the lake. We then had a priestess bless the waters. We then tied its lid on and together we shoved it into the small opening I'd made into the den. I invited her to have some of the rabbit and she agreed happily. The two of us then spent the remainder of the day working with the water and seeds. She showed me that even without the waters, her power was tuned to curing, restoring, and growing things. She could create a healthy green sapling out of nothing but a few moments of her time. I joked that she probably didn't even need the seed and she smirked at me. Now I wonder if she really did or if she's toying with me.

Nevertheless, she is patient with me. Whenever she tries to show me again and again how its done, I can't help but drift my eyes to her delicate hands, her thin waist, her beautifully long purple hair. She snaps her fingers in my face to get my attention, but I can see her smirking. She isn't offended by me, which is probably the most surprising thing about her. I find that as we practice, I can forget that I am a satyr, and even when I remember, I am not met with sadness or self loathing. It is a strange feeling indeed to not be constantly reminded of my form and think of it as anything other than misfortune. All too soon she tells me that she is needed back with the other druids. I thank her for her time and teaching and she smiles at me.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Xarun. Good night. Don't forget about our deal. I want to hear all about you, Xalune'dorei."

She waves at me and as she turns to crawl out, she stretches like a cat and lets out a content moan that my chest confuses for one of pleasure, looking at her hind quarters rising in the air. She then turns back and looks at me with a devious smile and I realize that she is toying with me. I laugh and toss a clump of dirt at her, hitting her on the leg.

"Stop that. Get out of my den."

She laughs and keeps going.

"Don't hate me because I'm beautiful. Hate me because I'm a better druid than you."

Halfway out of the exit, she transforms into a cat again, purposefully ruining my viewing of her leaving and shakes her feline hindquarters at me to taunt me before dashing off.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say there was a bit of dryad in her."

I look at the sapling she'd been working with and see that it is flourishing, with tiny pink buds on its small branches. She was definitely correct about being a better druid than me. Though she teases me, I don't for one moment doubt that she could beat me to a pulp without much of a challenge. The whispers add that she would then heal my wounds just as quickly and I sigh. If this is how she is with diminished powers, then I truly do have a long way to go. I eat a bit more of my stored rabbit and go to sleep. Perhaps tomorrow I can sneak away and do some hunting without the sentinels mistaking me for a demon.

I awaken the next morning to the sound of many people moving about. The sound is carried beneath the earth, and even as I wipe the sleep from my eyes, I can tell that there is a number of them gathering not far away. I climb out of my den to see Malfurion and Tyrande as well as many sentinels and druids preparing to leave. I am deeply confused by this. Weren't we supposed to stay in the Moonglade and heal the land? I see some of the priestesses preparing to leave and I ask what is going on. She tells me that the wardens have been chasing Illidan, the Betrayer, and now request Shan'do's aid at a place called the Tomb of Sargeras. I ask if I should go along, but she tells me that I am to stay. While they are gone, Malfurion has put General Staghelm in charge. This concerns me greatly, but I say nothing about it and instead wish her and Shan'do luck and tell her that I hope they come home safely. I do very much hope they do, or else my place among the Night elves may very much be in jeapordy. I stay outside of my den and watch them leave, trying to see if my new friend is among those leaving. I don't see any of the Druids of the Tree of Life among them, so I think it's safe to say that they have stayed behind. All the better. The security of my home may be leaving, but for now I still have a friend here.


	6. Chapter 6

With Tyrande and Shan'do away, the voices and I have decided it best that I stay in my den as much as possible. I am not so foolish as to believe that the druids are anything but suspicious of me, and they have every right to be. While I do not believe any of them would do anything to make Malfurion or the Priestess angry, I do not want to give them any reason to judge me more trouble than that is worth. If I stay out of sight, perhaps they won't do anything too rash. I have also decided that as nice as it is to have a cozy little den, it is beginning to wear on my knees to have to stay in a kneeling or crouched position in my den, so I am digging out the roof a bit so I can stand up. This is made more challenging with my antlers, but the whispers had the clever idea of practicing my druidic magic at the same time by employing roots to aid in the excavation. I find it odd that manipulating roots and weeds comes easily to me, but growing anything it much harder. Then again, in my previous life as a gardener, tending to weeds was the far more important part of my job as flowers didn't really need much encouragement to grow around the Well of Eternity. It could just be that I'm better at manipulating roots and weeds because that was all I was really proficient at before my imprisonment.

As I sit in my den, meditating and concentrating on the druidic machinations of using roots to dig and dispose of the dirt, I have time to mull over some of the things that I haven't really been able to until now. Things have been so chaotic since my freedom that I have only now noticed that my mistress has no name. The whispers and voices echoing through the chambers of my mind are definitely female, and when I try to picture her, I see a mature, beautiful temptress. Before, I associated the form and voice to that of the mad queen, Aszhara. It made sense, for the queen was all of those things and much more, but as time goes on, I think of her as the queen less and less. Perhaps she finds my attributing her to the source of much of my suffering offensive? I do not mean to offend her, but she has no name, and when I ask if she has one, she is silent. I know that she is no symptom of madness because of the Prophet and Arthas, but she has no name, and she has controlled my actions on more than one occasion. I ask her if it would be at all appropriate to give her a name, and she laughs at me. My talent for naming things has already been made clear to her and she would rather I not even attempt it for fear of what I may come up with. My Mistress is a very contradictory woman. Sensing my frustration, she soothes me and promises that one day she would tell me her name, but that I am not yet ready for it. For now, Mistress or My Lady would suffice. It's very hard to argue with a voice inside your head, so I let it go.

Another strange thing is my appearance. I am aware from Kiri's history lectures that Lord Xavius was apparently the first Satyr, transformed by Sargeras after being defeated by Malfurion. After he became a satyr, he supposedly began transforming other faithful into satyrs, and to this day Sargerei faithful can sometimes turn into satyr. I do remember in the blur of my escape, one of Lord Xavius's associates saying that I had been chosen, as Lord Xavius was. But I was never loyal to Sargeras, and evil energy had been forcefully sent through me for what I can only assume to be months. If Lord Xavius became the first Satyr...then what am I? Am I some sort of prototype or failed experiment? The satyr I've seen so far haven't been much larger than normal Kaldorei, but my antlers are substantially larger. And while I'm not much taller, I do rival General Stormrage in height, and he is quite tall even by night elf standards, certainly larger than I used to be. I have also noticed satyr being in an array of colors, but they seem to group together in uniforms of their particular color. I have not seen any with my particular shades. For that matter, I think my hair is changing color. It could be that I haven't taken a bath and I have been digging quite a bit, but I swear my beard and fur are turning a brownish red, like the color of a dead leaf on a tree in Autumn. I can't say that I'm sure because until recently I've been too...unhappy with my appearance to get a proper look at myself. I can't remember if my beard was always that color or not. Oh dear, it seems I've been lost in thought for too long. I've used too much energy...I'm passing out…

I find myself floating, surrounded by the night's sky. I'm aware that I'm dreaming, which is a strange knowledge to have. I haven't remembered my dreams up until now, so for all I know this is normal for my dreams. I probably won't remember this one either. The stars move around me, illuminating the ink black void surrounding me. It's strange, the stars give off so much light I'm not sure I can even call it a void. The light plays off of my every movement, it is more accurate to say that I am swimming in gentle waves of starlight. I see the moon, large and full before me. At first I think that it is growing, but I quickly realize that in fact I am being pulled toward it. As I move closer, I begin to see things on its surface. It's hard to make out, as if it is both there and not, fading in and out of existence. Buildings, pillars and temples made of solid moonlight. Small beings, treant saplings formed of constellations and soft light slowly move within the temples, though I do not see a purpose behind their movements. They seem just to be active for the sake of it. Surely this is the domain of Elune. Am I dreaming this? Or am I seeing it? I must be dreaming it, for why would Elune bless me with visions when even the most devout get only the rarest of whispers. I am being moved once again, rotated toward the dark side of the moon. As it approaches, I notice that though the line between the light and dark side is moving with its rotation, the buildings behind me seem to be sliding along the moon's surface, remaining ever in the light.

The reason is made clear the moment I pass into the darkness. It becomes much colder immediately, and I begin to miss the warmth behind me. I try to turn and swim back, but I am dragged along a current that I cannot fight. It becomes darker and darker until the stars seem to die out and I am left blind. Then, like beacons, I see several of those glowing saplings ahead. They have grown, nourished by something unknown into ancient protectors that stand vigilant in a circle. They are protecting something. As I am pulled closer, it becomes warmer with the light. The protectors are guarding a large hole, perfectly round and seemingly bottomless. I realize I am being pulled into the hole and suddenly I am very much afraid. I do not know why, but the hole fills me with dread and I turn and begin clawing at the frozen cold ground, trying in vain to fight the current. I am nearing the lip now, I try to call for help but no voice comes out. I use all of my strength to try to hold on!

I bolt upright in my den. One hand is clutching my chest so tightly that my claws have pierced and buried themselves in my flesh and the other has dug its way into the dirt next to me. The den is filled with the scent of blood and I am covered in it. I have puncture wounds on my arms as well, and they as well as the wounds on my chest are flowing, my fur is slightly caked in dirt and blood. Claw marks surround me. I remember the dream, but apparently I was thrashing about very violently. That was anything but restful. I try to stand, but my swift awakening combined with my blood loss has made be woozy and I fall right back down. My stomach growls. I don't have much rabbit left. I turn and begin to crawl toward my food shelf, leaving a trail of blood behind me. Then I hear something, someone entering my den. Instinct takes over and I turn, claws bared in case it is an attacker, come to take advantage of me while I am weak. Luckily I am not obstructed from seeing the entrance, and I see that it is Kiri, and she is carrying a small barrel that sounds full as she pushes it in.

"Xarun? Are you still in here? Fair warning, I'm coming in. I don't really know why you insist on me announcing it, it isn't like you wear clothing anyway. If I'm going to see anything, there's nothing you can do about it." As soon as she's in, however, her usually joyful, teasing demeanor vanishes."

"Xarun? By the Goddess! What happened to you?!"

She moves so quickly that I swear that she glides towards me and she's at my side in an instant, her hands glowing with healing magic. I can feel my wounds closing and the room stops spinning. I try to smirk, but I must have blood on my teeth as well because the sight doesn't seem to comfort her at all.

"Just...a bad dream, I think. I woke up like this. I thrashed myself to ribbons."

I chuckle, which was surprisingly easy, and hold up my bloodied claws. At the sight of it, she wrinkles her nose and waves a hand over it. The blood seems to evaporate at her command. She really is quite an amazing druid. I've never seen any other do things like that. Once I assure her that no one tried to assassinate me, she goes back to the barrel and opens it to reveal dozens of fish, freshly caught and still alive, writhing in a knot within their cramped space.

"I noticed that you were running low on food. Since I ate a fair share of it yesterday, it seemed only right that I bring some to you. The priestesses told me that you prefer meat, but as you can imagine, that's not easy to get here in Moonglade. Luckily, the Druids of the Bear have a love of fish. They had us purifying a small stream near here all day just so they could play in the water and catch fish."

I tell her that she must have been sent by the Goddess herself and she laughs at me and throws a fish at me. I try to catch it, but it slips through my fingers and tangles itself in my beard. I can hear Kiri literally rolling around laughing as I try to catch the slippery bastard and get it out of my beard. I do eventually get it and she tells me that if I can grow something for her, she'll cook them for us. Personally I could probably eat them raw, and after my frightening experience moments before, I'm not sure I'm up to practicing my magic. The whispers remind me that not two days ago I was looking forward to getting a teacher and that I shouldn't let opportunities like this slip away, so I get to work.

As I sit, meditating before my buried seeds, willing them to grow, Kiri sits in the corner and tells me stories. She tells me that during the War of the Shifting Sands, she befriended a bronze dragon named Soridormi. She appeared to to be a beautiful pale skinned elf during the majority of the war, charged with protecting their strongest base at the edge of Silithus. Kiri was one of many druids of the Tree of Life tending the to protectors and other ancients rooted there. Soridormi's son was apparently a key factor of the war, so to ease a worried mother, Kiri would stay with her, and the bronze dragon would weave all manner of tales, some true and some works of fiction to feed the imagination of a wide eyed young druid.

Her words blurred together after a certain point, my meditation and concentration getting in the way of listening to her stories. It isn't that I do not enjoy them, but I am very hungry and I'm sure that it's beginning to get late. Finally, I open my eyes to look at the fruits of my labor. I admit, it's not the prettiest thing I've ever grown, a messy tangle of vines that seems to be hugging to some large knot of wood at its core. It almost looks like some kind of heart. It isn't much, but it's something. I ask Kiri about it, but after examining it, she says she's never seen anything like it before. Still, it's worth dinner, which I am quite happy to hear. We leave the den together and build a small fire behind the ruins so as not to attract attention. I have no idea what the policy on fire is in Moonglade, and apparently neither does Kiri. She didn't think that it mattered much, but I urged her to side with caution.

Kiri made the fire in moments, and soon we were cooking the fish on sticks over the fire. Kiri asked me if I wanted to hear another story, and I admit that something has been bothering me for a while.

"Shan'do said that General Staghelm had lost more than just his home, and that was why he didn't like any other race. What did he mean by that?"

Kiri was silent for a few moments and her smile went away as she looked into the fire.

"It's a sad story...are you sure you want to hear it?"

I nod immediately. If Staghelm were more accepting of me, I'm sure the others would fall in line behind him. So knowing why he didn't like me seemed important to me.

"Very well. I was telling you about the War of the Shifting Sands earlier. A race of insects calling themselves the Qiraji turned Silithus into a wasteland, their hives both built as high as mountains, and going deeper beneath the earth than any barrow den. General Staghelm and the warriors and druids under him were awakened to fight the war alongside the sentinels, but we were hopelessly outnumbered. Staghelm sought the bronze dragons for aid, and after the Qiraji attacked their Cavern of Time, they agreed. The bronze dragons even enlisted many of the other dragonflights to aid them, but even with all of our combined power, the victory was won with many casualties. The death of the great wyrm, Grakkarond, set off the largest battle of the war. I wasn't at the front lines, but even from where we were stationed, at the mouth of the Un'goro Crater, we saw the great wyrm fall, and felt the ground tremble upon his crash. During that battle, the Qiraji general, Rajaxx, defeated General Stormrage in combat, and crushed his son between his pincers. It's said that the death was slow and painful, the general forcing Fandral to watch helplessly as his son was broken and crushed before him."

Kiri was silent for several moments after that. I made to say something, to comfort her, but as soon as I opened my mouth, she continued.

"It only got worse after that. After General Staghelm was healed, he led an offensive against their home, Ahn'Qiraj. Staghelm and Anachronos, the bronze dragon general went in with many warriors and dragons from all flights while we druids along with the priestesses prepared a special barrier that would imprison them within their own city. They were in the city for days, and less than a tenth came out in the end. Staghelm wouldn't say what happened, but one of the warriors claimed that as they went deeper, some of the men and dragons began to hear voices. Some ran off, screaming into the hive tunnels while others turned on their comrades, and still more were captured during the chaos. The barrier has been up ever since, so no one knows for sure. General Staghelm was never really the same after that. He was always proud, direct, and stubborn, but despite how much the dragons helped us, he no longer trusted them. In fact, I don't think he trusts anyone anymore. He looks over his shoulder all the time, and his hand is never far from his staff in case of trouble."

I look into the fire and nod slowly. That certainly was a sad story, and it explained Staghelm's paranoia quite well. It's no surprise he doesn't trust anyone after that. Kiri takes one of the fish from over the fire and pokes it to see if it's done.

"Considering that, it isn't at all surprising that he doesn't like you. I mean, on top of everything else, the priestesses say that you hear voices, whispering of Elune in your mind. They might see it as a blessing in disguise, but it's got Staghelm even more paranoid than usual. Without our immortality to fall back on, a lot of the others are also getting concerned. Most of us don't want to fight anymore. We want to settle somewhere, and try to get back what we had before. Some are even talking about trying to grow another World Tree."

I hadn't thought that anyone else knew about the voices I hear. I suppose I should have expected Tyrande to tell the priestesses, but that does indeed make things more complicated. She passes me one of the fish and nod for me to eat. Before I do so, however, I ask if growing another World Tree can be done and if it would fix everyone's problems. Kiri shrugs and grabs a fish for herself.

"Sure, after the Life Binder planted Nordrassil, we Druids of the Tree of Life have used its saplings to try to replicate it. I wasn't born then...but I've heard that our first few tries failed miserably. If you travel far enough, you can find probably half a dozen failed World Trees in the world. We can make World Trees, but we can't seem to keep it from becoming corrupted for very long. That's why we instead used the saplings to create Trees of Life. They were smaller, and more akin to ancients. When Nordrassil burned, however, so did all the Trees of Life. We still have a few saplings though, and Nordrassil wasn't completely destroyed, otherwise we druids would have almost no power left to us. If we could successfully grow another World Tree, then our powers wouldn't be completely restored, and we wouldn't have our immortality back unless the dragons blessed it like they did with Nordrassil, but we would have a home again. For some people, that's enough to risk anything on."

I can certainly see that point of view. I owe my den and possibly my part in the war against Archimonde to the same need for a place to belong. We spent the rest of our dinner in silence, and Kiri left soon afterward. I put out the fire, and went back to my den. I certainly hope I don't have that nightmare again. I'm not nearly as good at healing as Kiri is.


	7. Chapter 7

(Warning you now, chapters like this are why this is rated M)

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I awaken within my den and yawn loudly, creating a small reverberation within my cave. I didn't have a nightmare, or if I did I do not remember this. I whisper a silent thank you to no one in particular and go to my shelf to eat some of the leftover fish for breakfast. I feel surprisingly full of energy today, so I decide to continue my training. I look to the strange pod that I'd grown the previous day to find that it is larger today than it was before. I move over to it and close my eyes, crossing my legs and putting my claws over it to channel energy into it. When I do so, I suddenly feel another entity in the cave. I open my eyes and look around, but I see no one. It's strange. I'm so sure that I can sense someone else. I turn back to my pod and slowly it begins to unfurl, revealing a large pink flower with red splotches. I've never seen a flower like it. It seems quite wild. I move forward to touch it, but then suddenly I feel the ground beneath me move, as if I am being slid across on a loose rug. In an instant I am no longer in my cave, but in an open forest of green. The Emerald Dream.

Why am I here? I did not come here by choice...although thinking about it, the few times I have gone to the Dream have not been by choice. I look in front of me again and my flower has taken on strange life. Its vines and roots have pushed itself up from the ground, almost as if it were standing. What is this flower? I reach out to it and it rubs its silken petals against me like a cat. I smile. What a nice plant. I pet it gently and its vines rise and gently wrap around my wrist. They are covered with thorns, but it is being careful not to scratch me. Wait until Kiri hears about this! I've finally made progress with my druidic skills! I see a shimmering of light behind the flower and I look at it. It's taking on the shape of a humanoid, perhaps a druid entering the dream?

It is, a woman. She's wearing a deep green cloak over a strangely alluring variant of the arch druid's vestment robes. It is adorned with brown and golden vines the color of sweet apples and is tied tightly at her bosom, causing them to squish upward, creating a lovely mountain range with a valley of flesh threatening the laces keeping them contained. She holds out her hands as if awaiting an embrace and green energy begins to glow from her hands. The glow grows brighter and green ethereal vines rope around her arms slowly until they reach her elbows. They slow to a stop then, and just as I am about to introduce myself, the ethereal vines lash out like snakes securing the kill. They wrap around my flower and it lets out a strange gurgling squeal as it is squeezed by the woman's magical vines. I stand and scream for her to stop, but she merely moves a hand toward me and it lifts me off my feet and I land on my ass a foot from where I stood. I can do nothing as my living flower turns black and crumbles away. I stand up and shout at her, demanding to know why she killed my flower. Her white eyes look at me and I can see no anger in her face. In fact, she looks almost bored.

"This land is sacred, satyr. Your corruption will not be tolerated. I will not allow the Emerald Nightmare to corrupt the Moonglade."

With that, she moves her hand swiftly, as if swiping at me like a wild cat and suddenly I am thrown back again. I hit the wall of my den cheek first and topple to the ground, my antlers landing badly and pulling painfully at my skull as I try to twist my head to stop the pain. I sit up rubbing the side of my face, and I can see the blackened remains of my living flower crumble to ash before me. I am filled with rage. All of my hard work, wasted! That wretched druid claimed I was corrupting the Moonglade! Does she not know that I was given permission to practice by Shan'do himself? How am I to learn if everything I do is supposedly dangerous?! I slam my fist to the ground and it falls away. I am falling into darkness. No! I recognize this! I am swiftly pulled toward the moon, but I am nowhere near the palace of the Light side, but immediately thrust into darkness. I hear voices in my head. They are not the usual whispers. My mistress's voice is deeper, and it reverberates painfully.

"My poor child. You've forgotten yourself again. The night elves will never accept you. You are a satyr, a twisted thing in their eyes. They keep you like a pet because their priestess commands it, but you are not one of them."

What is she talking about? After all this time, I've finally found peace. It's not an illusion, it's not just a lie I'm telling myself...is it?

"Poor thing, you must stop trying so hard to be what you are not. You are not a night elf anymore. You are more than that. You should embrace it. It is a gift."

Embrace it? A gift? That's nonsense! This form has brought be nothing but pain! It was Tyrande and the druids who made it end. They accepted me. They gave me peace! The voice chuckles at me. It's becoming so cold. I see the pit before me. I am being dragged in. I am swallowed by darkness.

"Sweet Xarun. Wake up. Wake up!"

"Xarun! Wake up!"

My open wide and I inhale sharply. I smell...blood. Kiri is in front of me. I am standing. My hand is around her throat and I am holding her up by it. My claws have dug into her neck, but my claw is so large that I can pierce her throat without squeezing too hard for her to shout. I can't move. I try to pull my claw away, but I cannot. I see her blood soaking the fur on my arm, dripping at the elbow. What have I done?

"Kiri...have I told you...how attractive you are?"

That was my voice! Ugh! I said something so creepy too. Who is controlling me? Stop it! My eyes move to her chest and I can see that she's wearing her usual leather outfit, provocative in its own right as she wore it tight to tease me. My other claw moves to her shirt and my sharp talons slice through her clothing like butter. She is gripping the hand holding her aloft so tightly. I can feel her becoming warmer as my hand slices her clothing until it falls away, leaving her topless. She's even more beautiful than I imagined. Her bare breasts were larger than I originally thought, perky orbs with enough weight to them to bounce at every movement. Her nipples are deep purple, and despite the situation, I find myself longing to play with them. I feel my mouth form a smirk and a rise begin to form below my waist.

"You've been teasing me for days, you know. Finally, I have you all to myself."

I pin her to the side of the wall, slamming her against it hard enough to make her cough some of the blood that still pours from her neck. I suspect that if she were not so good at healing herself, she would have died by now. I scream in my head to stop this. To leave her alone. My body gives a dark chuckle.

"Leave her alone? Why? You want this. You've been wanting this for thousands of years. You can't keep this bottled up. You need it. We need it. So why not just take it?"

I see my free claw moving down to the front of her leather pants. A single claw slides down the front and with the effort of squishing a bug, the seams are torn and only the back pressed against the cavern wall holds them up. I can see tears forming in her eyes. This can't continue. I won't allow it! My face contorts into a scowl.

"Fine then. I'll find something else to have fun with. If we're not going to play with these elves, then I need to work off this energy."

With that, My claw tosses Kiri aside like a ragdoll and I hear her hit the back of the cave. I try to apologize to her, but my body is already on the move. In a blur of speed I did not know I could achieve, I leave the cave. I run on all fours like a beast and I can feel the ground under me speeding me along, as if I were surfing atop a living tremor beneath the ground. The cave system connecting Moonglade to the fel-corrupted forest moves around me so quickly that the air moving past me creates a moaning noise. I shoot from the entrance and leap from the road down to several pools of corrupted water. There are dozens of imps and smaller satyr here. They seem to be drinking from the waters, recovering their strength. I smirk.

"These will do."

I am filled with rage. These satyrs and demons. They ruined my life. My vision tunnels black and purple and I watch, imprisoned within my own body as I lift and tear the imps to pieces. With a swipe of my claw, vines and roots rip from the ground and hold several satyrs in place as my claws tear at their flesh so quickly that they seem to explode with blood. The hot, stinking liquids covering my body, stinging my flesh as I tear them apart. Only as I begin to run out of victims do I notice that I am laughing, cackling a broken roar of laughter. The last imp screams for mercy as I grab it by the head and squeeze, bursting it like a watermelon. I raise my gore covered claw to my face and lick the brain matter and blood from my claws and chuckle.

"This is the only warning you'll get. The Dark Mother is watching us. She needs to be sated. Either give her the blood of her enemies, or put this generous tool between our legs to good use. I don't care which. Fail her again, and I'll be back. Next time, that sweet elf is all ours."

Suddenly, my body seizes, as if every muscle in my body has tensed up at the same time. I fall to my knees and catch myself just before my head hits the ground. I have control again. I feel sick to my stomach. I can still taste the blood and gore of that imp in my mouth. I heave, I retch, and lose my breakfast to the ground. When I am finally done, I slowly stand up and turn to see the woman from the Emerald Dream looking down at me from the entrance to the Moonglade atop the hill. She has that same stoic look on her face.

"Come, Satyr. Let's get you washed up and back in your den before someone sees you."

Behind her I can see Kiri, dressed in the white lace of a priestess. She must have borrowed it when I...I almost…

I wish I would die. I wish I were still chained in the Vault. I wish I could do or say anything to make what just happened not the worst nightmare I could have ever imagined, or at least make it not real. As I come up the road to the Arch druid, she turns to lead me back through. Kiri is next to me. She offers me a weak smile, but I can still see a tear in her green eye. I want to die. I hear the faint voice of my mistress telling me that Kiri isn't wearing anything under that transparent gown. Just hearing her say that makes me turn away. I disgust myself. The druids are right to hate me, to look down on me. I'm little more than a monster, a wild animal needing to be caged.

The woman leads the two of us down the tunnels as if she knew them like the back of her hand. To be honest, I was lost almost immediately. I probably couldn't find my way even if it took me all day. We soon walked down a spiraling path that opened into a large lit room. The cave walls formed a dome over a large pool of water. The woman told me to get in and I did it without question. On the surface the water was warm, but it was deep enough to come to my chest and the bottom foot of it was nearly ice cold. The blood came off me and the water around me began turning black. I turned to the woman and she was already sending energy into the pool, causing it to glow brightly. The magic coming from her quickly devoured the miasma that the demonic blood was creating, though it didn't get rid of it completely for I was still surrounded by a small circle of darkness. I wanted to question the woman, but she just told me to stop talking and clean myself. I did as she was told and scrubbed the gore from my body as best I could, diving and swishing my antlers from side to side underwater to clean them. When I was done, I climbed out of the pool and she simply turned and started walking again. Water clung to my fur annoyingly well, so I made squishing noise with every movement I made. When at last we returned to the Moonglade, the woman turned to the two of us.

"Let me make this perfectly clear for the both of you. Satyr, you will not practice your magic until further notice. We have enough work to do without cleaning up your mess. And if you leave the Moonglade to kill, tell one of the guards first. Don't just go running off."

She then looked to Kiri.

"And Kiri, you are to stop teaching him. I know its nice having a new friend, but I'm too busy to come to your rescue like this. And if this is going to happen again, bring extra clothes. Don't pester a priestess and make her go without her robes because yours were ruined. You can become an animal and she cannot. Am I clear?"

I do not understand this woman. I nearly rape my best friend and go on a slaughtering rampage and she's chastising us like we're children who just broke someone's favorite walking stick. I bowed my head with Kiri out of instinct and not wanting to be yelled out again and nodded. With that, the woman nodded and turned away. When she was partway back to the main town on the other side of the lake, I looked at Kiri. My throat was dry and I was nearly choking back tears, but I whispered an apology.

"I'm sorry...for...for everything. I couldn't...I didn't want to hurt you."

She gave me that weak smile again and nodded.

"Your night terrors are no joke. At least this time you did it to other satyrs and not yourself."

She was avoiding it, and I can hardly blame her. I tell her that I'm going not going back to my den for a while, but she has to head back to the other druids and help with the purifying rituals, as well as fix her clothes that I ruined. I nod and go to the ruins where the priestesses are sitting in prayer, eating bowls of berries, and sitting by the lake, causing illusions in the water to entertain themselves. I sit and watch them go about their day. Perhaps watching them will sate my Mistress enough to let me sleep tonight.


	8. Chapter 8

As I sleep, I am haunted by the previous day. I find myself holding a bloodied Kiri by the neck, I see evil in my own eyes. I am outside my body, watching as my claws tear through her clothing, as she is pinned to the wall. I cry for it to stop and my body turns to look at me, a cruel smirk upon my face. I see my fur change before me, turning a dark crimson.

"You want to be a night elf so badly. I pity you. You let yourself be made a fool of, let these elves keep you like a pet. You want attention, to be liked, to not be a monster when being a monster is what makes you better than them."

The scenario turns dark around us and I am left with my fiery counterpart.

"A night elf could not have escaped Xavius. A night elf could not have survived Arthas. A night elf could not have blended in with Archimonde's army. The things you have done are because of what you are."

I tell the crimson satyr before me to shut up, to leave me alone, but he laughs in my voice.

"You sicken me. A sniveling child was chosen by our Mistress? Pathetic."

He laughs at me and backhands me across the face, sending me chin first onto the nonexistent ground.

"Weakling! If you keep that up, then your body will be mine soon enough. Then that cute little elf girl is mine...and that arch druid too. You'll get a front row seat to showing those bitches who their alpha is."

My eyes slowly open and I groan with pain. I've scratched my arm into a bloody mess, no doubt trying to keep control of it. I can't use my powers to heal it without angering the arch druid woman, and I can't ask Kiri to help me. So I am forced to leave my den and ask a priestess for help. They are all too understanding, which doesn't make me feel better. It really is like I'm their pet causing an accident. I am about to thank the priestess when I hear shouting not too far away. I look up to see a dozen or so druids dressed in robes on the road, and they are watching two night elves shout at each other. I recognize them both as well, General Staghelm and the female arch druid I met yesterday. Looking at the crowd of druids, I can see that Kiri is among them, dressed in robes like the rest of them. I find that odd, and I want to investigate this, so I approach. I do so with at much stealth as I can manage being a satyr, luckily the Moonglade is almost completely covered by the canopy of giant trees, so shadow melding isn't difficult.

"I will not tell you again, Lilliandra. You and your druids will fall in line!"

"You do not have authority over me, General. As far as I am concerned, you are Arch Druid just as I am, equals. My druids and I are not yours to play with."

The general is looking down on her, standing a full head, perhaps two over her. Staghelm is a very large man, while she is average sized for a night elf, yet she stands defiantly under his piercing gaze. If I didn't know better, I would say that Staghelm's death glare could ignite the forest. I admire the woman for her courage...even hidden in the shadows I have trouble keeping myself from curling back like a defeated animal.

"Careful, little girl. I am not just your General. I lead the Cenarion Circle. Shan'do left me in charge. If you do not fall back in line, then I have the authority to make you."

The woman scoffs at him and pokes him in the chest. My mind screams for her to back down. With each jab I can see Staghelm's rage flare like a rabid bear.

"How dare you speak to a fellow Arch Druid like a child. Keep your lust for power in check, Fandral. You act like a highborne noble fresh from his mother's teat. We will not grow a World Tree for you on your whim. To do so would not only be dangerous, but it would take our attention away from the demon infested forest right at our doorstep."

The General wants to grow a World Tree? Like Nordrassil? I knew they could do that but...I want to think on this new knowledge, but the scene before me is rapidly going down hill.

"I will not have our citizens squat in this valley like refugees in our own land! We've lost our home and our immortality, and the Moonglade is too small to fit our population any longer. A World Tree will give our people a new home. The price of food, safety, and hope are too small not to reach out and grab it, so do it!"

The Arch druid folds her hands in front of her, pressing her bosom up even more and shakes her head.

"False hope and tainted food you mean. World Trees are delicate when first grown, and demons are rampant. You would offer up our people to slaughter reaching for an impossible dream. I will not risk my druids just to suit your fantasies!"

I see veins begin to throb in Staghelm's forehead. I see the attack coming, but can do nothing to warn the arch druid as Staghelm punches her hard in the gut, then kicks her hard enough to send her sprawling to the ground.

"Shut up! If you will not do as ordered, then you will move aside. I, Fandral Staghelm, will give our people a new home, whether you want it to happen or not."

The archdruid turns back to him, blood on her lip. I see her having difficulty breathing as she props herself up.

"You're a fool, Fandral. I will not watch you send our people to their deaths."

The General moves to her and kicks her hard, sending her rolling in my direction. I hear her gasp as the wind is knocked out of her. Kiri moves to go to her, but one of the other druids grabs her shoulder and holds her back. Fandral smirks at her before looking forward toward the Furbolg caverns.

"Then feel free to leave. Lilliandra Treemender, as the Leader of the Cenarion Circle, Arch Druid of the Wild, I strip you of your rank and banish you. Go see if the humans need a gardener."

He spits in her direction and turns to the druids waiting on the other side of the road.

"Listen up! You druids of the Tree of Life serve me now! We're going to go give our people a new home, hope for the future, and safety from the demons running rampant through our lands! Anyone who doesn't like it, can join Treemender there in the dirt."

Despite Staghelm's speech, they all look to Lilliandra for confirmation. After a few moments, she gives a look of defeat and nods. I see her try to get up in front of me, but the pain is plain on her face. I can stand it no longer and become visible. I kneel to her and offer her my furry arm to help her. She looks at me for a moment, then nods and puts her hand on the middle of my forearm. As I help her to her feet, I can feel Staghelm looking at us and I look to him. He smirks at me, and I find it most unsettling.

"Take the abomination with you, traitor. Like you said, demons would just get in the way. One who thinks he's a druid...that can only cause more problems."

I open my mouth to tell him that Shan'do and the Priestess gave me permission to stay and practice my powers, but with a blur of speed he has his staff out, trained on us and the tip begins to glow with power.

"Let me put it a way you monsters understand. Get the hell out of my land, or I'll hunt you down and kill you myself."

My mind is reeling with a hundred things I want to say. Fear, anger, and hopelessness hit me like the blast of a hurricane. Lilliandra puts a hand on my chest and she whispers me to be silent as she steadies herself. I decide it best not to incur the wrath of someone like him and I nod. He puts his staff back on his back and begins walking.

"I'll tell the guards to make sure the two of you leave, dead or alive. Have fun with the filthy mortals."

Staghelm then calls for the druids to march. I can see Kiri crying as she is forced to turn away from us and march. Now that I know that the she and the ex-arch druid share a family name, I am sure that those tears are for her, but I don't think it hurts to pretend that one or two of her tears might be for me. Despite yesterday's events, I hope that she'll miss me. I know that I'll miss her. Lilliandra attempts to stand, but I can see the pained expression on her face and ask her not to hurt herself. She should rest and heal herself. After all, we have quite a journey ahead of us. She looks away from me, either from disgust or to save face I cannot tell, but she nods and sits back down. I sit down with her and give her space as she uses her druidic magic to heal her wounds one by one.

We rest for what felt like hours of awkward silence, but in truth was more likely only several minutes. Lilliandra was soon back to full strength and told me to say my farewells to the priestesses and pack my things if I had any. She then headed off back toward town and I did as she asked. The priestesses had heard everything, so they knew that I had to leave. Each one promised to speak to Priestess Tyrannde on my behalf when she returned and I thanked them for it. It wasn't much of one, but for a brief few days I had a home. I have little worth packing save for the small empty bags I'd made. I still had some fish from the night Kiri told me about Staghelm, but it wasn't much so I just ate it to save space. I took the bags and asked the priestesses if they knew of a way that I could keep them on my person without tying them to my fur. I didn't want to do that again. They fashioned a belt made of purple cloth. The priestess told me that it was a rare type of cloth called Runecloth, the furbolg keep scraps of it because they believe it brings them good luck. As I look at it, it seems almost a princely gift and I thank them for it as I put it on and tie my bags to it. I go to the pools and am pleasantly surprised that I don't look absolutely silly just wearing a belt. What I do find slightly alarming however is that my fur is changing color right in front of me. My dull brown fur changes before my eyes, becoming blue, my skin tone changing as well to match. I raise an arm before me to confirm and indeed I have changed color. How very peculiar.

I look back to the priestesses and thank them again as I turn and begin walking back toward the road leaving the Moonglade. I can see Lilliandra walking down the path, still wearing her arch druid ensemble despite being stripped of that rank. I wait for her, but she simply continues past me.

"Come on, Satyr. We have a long walk ahead of us. If you see any demons along the way, feel free to kill them. Didn't I hear you talking to yourself yesterday saying you needed to kill them for some reason?"

So she is mad at me...I suppose there's nothing I can do about it now. As I walk behind her, I let my eyes wander to her beautiful bottom, packed tightly in her outfit made of leather. While it is partly just to enjoy the view, I do not want the voices in my head to speak to me right now. I'm still cross with my Mistress and would not enjoy her company.

We travel through the furbolg caverns in silence. She leads the way, walking through the maze as if she could traverse it blind while I try to stay as close as I can to her without her becoming upset with me. If I lost sight of her for even a moment, I feel as though I could become lost for days until a guard or worse, Staghelm found me. It takes only a few minutes and we are out, back in the fel corrupted forest. I look down the hill and can still see the small lakes, their foul shores coated in day old gore. Wolves seemed to have tried to feast on the remains, but left most of it after falling sick I assume as most of it is still there. She avoids looking at it and I follow her down the road.

As we travel, I can tell that she's bothered by her surroundings. She makes an effort to only look at the road, and she winces at each distant roar and growl we hear. It isn't fear I see, but sadness. Her home was destroyed, her friends either ill or corrupted along with the forest. It's strange, but I don't see the same sadness when she looks at me. Rather, it seems almost like contempt. I try to think of some way I may have offended her...other than the obvious of course. I attacked her family member. If I still had a family, I would probably be cross as well. I tell myself that it's probably just that, but it feels like something else to me.

The road in these woods stay on high ground, built along the slopes up toward the mountain. To the right of us, there are many pools of tainted green water, rain water no doubt collected over time in the valley but not enough so that it became a proper river. Down in the valley we can see scarred and tainted wolves and bears, as well as strange living liquid blobs and imps playing with the corrosive water. I had no connection with this land, nor have I ever seen it before the corruption, but it is certainly in rough shape. To our left, the mountain range seems to pinch toward the road, then widen out again. On either side, there is scorched earth, with living green flame chasing small animals to feed their own fire. I want to hunt down the fire beasts, save the creatures, but I have no way of fighting living fire, and neither does Illiandra seem to as she picks up her pace, practically jogging down the path now in an attempt to flee the evil around us. I follow suit and begin a slow run to keep up with her. We pass by an elven tower that other satyr seem to be congregating at, but they seem too busy with their own business to even notice us. All the better. I am not confident in my fighting skills. Though I've seen myself be a ruthless killer, I doubt that I could recreate it. I am not that person. I refuse to believe that I ever could be.

A trail leading to a small furbolg village marks a lessening in the corruption. The trees slowly lose their poisoned look and the trunks grow thicker and stronger. The ground beneath our feet slowly grows softer and the grass greener. The vile stench of brimstone and rotted flesh is drifted away on a pleasantly cool breeze, bringing in the rich smell of foliage, rich soil and moist leaves. The air becomes cool, like the wind just before rain on a warm day. Ahead of me, Illiandra looks as if a large weight had been lifted from her shoulders and she relaxes, practically slumping her shoulders.

"Raynewood Retreat is just ahead. We'll rest there."

At first I think she just wants to enjoy being out of the corruption, but then my legs reveal that they are also tired. We had run much more of the trail than I originally thought. I voice my agreement and we begin walking again, this time at a more leisurely pace. This gives me time to look around. I had come this way chasing Archimonde's army nearly a week ago, and already the land looked completely different. Illiandra and her druids must have been working tirelessly to do this in so short a time. This, however, brought a question to mind.

"Lady Illiandra...forgive me...but why did you restore the forest down here and not the area closest to the Moonglade first? Passing through it continuously without healing it seems dangerous to me."

Illiandra was silent for a few moments, then sighed. I guess she decided that it wasn't worth keeping it a secret. Or it's possible she just didn't want to talk to me.

"We did try that initially. However the Felwood as some of the people have started calling it is resisting us much more than we thought it would. Without Nordrassil, we're simply too weak to heal land that doesn't want to be healed. The rest of Ashenvale south of here is much more receptive to it, and more people lived in this area anyway, so it was both easier and more rewarding. We hope that by healing the land down here, we will both strengthen ourselves and weaken the demon's corruption in Felwood so we can begin healing it. Until then, we'll simply have to look for weak spots to exploit. It will likely take decades otherwise."

I don't really understand it, but I nod anyway. I suppose it was stupid of me not to assume they had at least tried the simple solution first.

It wasn't long before Raynewood Retreat came into view ahead of us. Raynewood retreat was in fact a large night elven tree, hollowed out to serve as a building and a tower but kept alive and healthy through druidic magic. It never ceases to surprise me how creative and ingenious night elf grove architects are. I wonder if its the part of me that still thinks like a gardener that sees these half tree half buildings and hopes that one day I might be so talented as to grow something like that. The path led us to the south side of the hill and turned us back to go up the hill to the Retreat. At the trees base, two dryads were playing in a moonwell located just to the side of the entrance. The two half women-half deer had more wild hair than most dryads I'd seen and were blue, with deep blue and purple armor that almost looked like it was bark that had grown on them. All around the tree was a sea of purple flowers. These dryads, despite having adorable high voices and seductive top halves were clearly very powerful in the druidic arts. They must be Laughing Sisters, daughters of the demi-god called Cenarius.

I sat down where I stood and just enjoyed watching them play for a while. When they noticed me, they smirked and turned away from me, flashing their white tails at me before bounding behind the tree. When they came back around the other side, they had spears in their hands and were charging at me, giggling and bouncing all the while. It took a moment for my brain to register that they meant to kill me, so giddy as they were about charging me. I quickly rose to my feet and called out the name that Priestess Tyrande had given me.

"I am Xalune'dorei! Named by the Priestess Tyrande and Shan'do Stormrage! Please stop!"

I instinctively raise my hands up to my face as if to shield myself, but they both charge right past me, giggling all the while before slowing and turning around toward me.

"Aww, does that mean we can't kill you?"

"Laaaaame...Oh well, c'mon Halaania. Let's go find some other satyrs to kill. I wanna get really bloody so we can have another bath together!"

"Ooh, let's kill a lot then! I wanna get nice and dirty so you can get me all clean again!"

The two dryads prance off and I fall on my ass, breathing heavily. Dryads are fucking psychopaths when they want to be. I'm not sure what was scarier, the two charging at me, or the thought of them getting giddy while they slaughtering like I did yesterday. I look to Illiandra to see if she felt the same, but she was already halfway up the ramp pathway up the tree toward it's crown. I supposed that there were more dryads, or worse a grove keeper up there that she wanted to talk to. No thank you. I would rather rest down here.

We stayed at Raynewood Retreat for only an hour or so. Illiandra returned down the ramp and tossed a bag at me. When I opened it, I found it had slabs of meat and I looked at her inquisitively.

"Where did-"

"Sabers have been hunting the tainted wildlife coming from Felwood and getting sick. So the Laughing sisters have been hunting the tainted creatures and trying to purify some meat for them. You can be the guinea pig since a little fel taint probably won't kill you. Eat up."

I would have thought this a kindness if she hadn't said it so coldly. Still, I am hungry, so I use my claws to hold and cut the slabs of what I suppose is bear meat and start eating. The meat tastes a bit off, but strangely it doesn't bother me. It's a damn sight better than eating fruit or berries that just turn to ash in my mouth. I tell Illiandra about the rancid taste anyway since she wanted me to test it, but she ignores me and is washing her arms in the moonwell. Once she's washed up, she pulls a small bag of berries from her satchel and sits upon the stones surrounding the moonwell to eat. I do enjoy the taste of meat, but I do miss fruits and berries.

As soon as she was done with her berries, she rose and approached me, but only to kick the bottom of my hoof as she passed.

"Come on, Satyr. We have much ground to cover before we can rest."

I asked her where we were going as I rose and apparently Lady Tyrande left a dozen or so sentinels behind to keep an eye on the mortal races that aided us against Archimonde. The Horde and Alliance as they called themselves had bases to the East. Once we were there we could decide our next move. This seemed like a sound plan. So, we got back on the road and took the crossroads Eastward. Most of the area around us looked like it was either healed or quickly healing, but the mountainside was never completely out of view, and all along its roots were signs of corruption.

We traveled South along the road and then East, passing the bridge where I had frightened the Death knight what seemed like so long ago. I remember the horror that I had become, and I take my eye away from the archdruid to study my claws. I consider myself, and the powers I possess. I still have my power as a druid, in fact they have grown since I became a satyr. It may be because of some underlying corruption, but with training perhaps that could change. Now that Illiandra is no longer archdruid, perhaps she could teach me...once she calms down of course. I hear my Mistress wonder if being a druid is all that matters to me. I haven't heard her voice in some time, and the sound of her feels alien at first, but not uncomfortable. I thought I would be more angry, but I cannot seem to stay mad at her. I am confused by her question, but as I am about to ask her about it, Illiandra suddenly stops in front of me and I almost bump into her. I ask her what is wrong but she ignores me and brandishes her staff. I hear the sound of moonfire and look up to see the flash of lunar energy hit a glowing green eye that had blended in with the healthy green of the trees. Upon being it, it quickly fades and several purple furred satyrs leap from a ridge on the sorth side of the road and land near us. More leap up from a dip down into an open area on the south side. In an instant we are surrounded and before Illiandra can get off a spell, several of them hiss wicked words and send dark bolts of energy at her. I can see her veins pop of of her skin all over her body as she is enveloped again and again with energies, hexes and curses. Without thinking, I command roots from the ground to entangle the satyrs, but when I raise my hands it is not plant life that roots them in place, but instead large chunks of ice suddenly freeze their hooves. I am immediately confused as to how I could have done such a thing, druids cannot command the powers of ice. In my confusion, the spell breaks and I feel a sharp pain on the back of my head. As the world goes black, I realize I was most likely hit in the head with a rock. It is my last thought before losing consciousness.

When I awaken, it is near sunset. The satyrs have turned a ruined tower into a home of sorts...perhaps a coven? There are strange glowing runes littering the ground, which is a stark blackened contrast to the vibrant greens of Ashenvale's forest floor. I've been tied up in a sitting position, leaning against some old stonework. I can see Illiandra on the other side of the clearing. Several satyrs are channeling some dark purple energy into her. I can hear her moans of anguish though it is clear that she is trying to restrain them. I feel an awakening in my loins at the noises, but the feelings are mixed with anger. These satyrs, these monsters are clearly corrupting her, trying to make her like them...like us. I can feel it in the pit of my stomach and it angers me more than I can bear. I want to kill them. I want to kill them so badly. I can hear them cackling over the pulsing of my heart beating in my ears. One of them is pointing at me and laughing, calling me a traitor, laughing at me "getting off" on hearing my partner being tortured. I can't stand it! I want them all to die!

"Then kill them."

It's him...that monster inside of me, that version of me that I so despise. I can feel him smirking at me with that smug look, the look of someone who can kill for pleasure.

"What are you waiting for, wimp? Don't you want to save your friend? Or are you gonna slink back like the beta male you are?"

I can feel my claws digging into my flesh. My vision is flashing red. I can hear her, I can hear her moans changing. She's starting to enjoy it. I don't want her to enjoy it. I don't want to enjoy it! I want them to die but I don't want to enjoy killing them! What am I supposed to do, Mistress?! The other me sighs, I can feel his disappointment but I am far too angry to care.

"I don't know why I bother...here, let me help you."

The ropes holding me tear apart like cobwebs. My arm reaches out to one of them and I can tell that he's in control, my fur is blood red. A bolt of black and purple flies from my hand and hits him. His face twists in fear before turning to run. He doesn't manage a single step before clutching his chest and falling to the ground. I can tell he is dead. The other satyrs turn to me and begin rushing toward me. I laugh menacingly as a wave of flame bursts from my hooves and they are all blasts backward. I waste no time and rush toward one, letting loose a horrific howling as I rip them apart one by one. They try to run, but I am faster, casting spells as I move similar to the ones that they cast on Illiandra on the road to cripple her with pain. In moments, it is over, and I am covered in their dark blood. I chuckle and lick the blood off of my claws.

"You know, I complained, but I am so glad I got to do this instead of you. You will never appreciate the beauty of ripping people apart, the taste of a fresh kill."

A sultry moan catches my ear and I turn to see the lady druid. Her skin is slowly turning a darker purple and she has ripped her way out of her bonds, only to hastily remove her robes. She is now curled on the ground, shaking. I can see the hunger in her eyes, but also pain. She is resisting, but I can tell that her body is reacting to the fel magic. Her fingers are trembling, resisting her soaking hunger between her legs, her ample breasts pressed against her knees, her body unable to stop herself from rubbing erect nipples with her knees. I laugh at her pitiful display and approach her, my twisted, engorged manhood erect and throbbing.

"Look at you...a bitch in heat, just like your daughter. How I would love to put you in your place."

I approach her and I realize that he is trying to take advantage again. I tell him to stop but he ignores me and begins rubbing my length, calling her attention to it. I call out to my Mistress for help. I do not want this. She asks me why not. She is no longer an arch druid, they can no longer hurt me. Why not enjoy the spoils? Why not let her turn, make her my mate and live happily? Was that not what I wanted?

I am perplexed. Of course I did not want this. I wanted a friend, perhaps a mate, but mostly a friend. I wanted to be accepted, to be in control of myself, to better myself with someone at my side. I don't want to give in to this murderer. I don't want to let her change. I want to be better than that! I want to prove that I am not the monster that they claim I am!

The murderer has gotten closer to her, and she has noticed my large member. I expect her to be disgusted, but all I see is hunger. She begins crawling toward me, her breasts like beautiful fruit as her arms press them together as she crawls, her smooth ass up in the air, dripping a snail trail of lust.

"Good bitch...crawl to your alpha. Suck it. Suck it because you need my cock. After me, no other elf, hell, no other mortal will ever satisfy you. You're my bitch now."

I want this to stop! Don't want to be this way! I am not a monster! My Mistress tells me to calm down, that I can save her. I pause, both physically and mentally. I can?

"I can?"

That was not my voice...that was his voice, but I spoke it, he spoke with me? My Mistress confirms that we can save her, that she hasn't changed yet. There is still hope. She tells me how and I look down at her. Her mouth is reaching up to me, like a baby moments away from receiving its bottle. In the blink of an eye, I grab the top of her head and pull it up. She moans erotically and her hand is now between her legs. I can see her eyes, they are no longer the brilliant blue of the moon, but a hue of regal purple. I hold up my other hand to her and I begin channeling the dark power that my murderous half was using to kill. I speak again and it is still his voice but I am in control.

"I can save you. I WILL save you!"

Dark energy flies from her body like a sandstorm of ash, hitting my skin like tiny shards of glass and sinking in. My fur goes black, my skin the deep purple that she had been. Her moaning is increasing, reaching a fever pitch. She is enjoying this immensely, and I am thoroughly pleased that I am not. It is over in seconds. I release her head and she drops, spent to the ground, her head knocking into my still erect member on the way down, making it bounce. I feel exhausted, and though I did not enjoy the pleasure she did, I feel accomplished that I was able to save her. Her body quickly returns to normal and she slowly pushes her head up.

"W...what?"

I do not hear the rest of her thought as I fall back and hit the ground hard. I am tired...so very tired. I hope she doesn't remember any of this. Even if it makes me seem like a freak, being erect and unconscious in a pool of satyr blood...I hope that she doesn't remember what she almost did...what we almost did. She wouldn't understand. She wouldn't understand that I am not the monster she thought I was, that they thought I was. I whisper a thanks to my Mistress. I can feel hope swell inside me again, a hope that I will be normal again someday.


	9. Chapter 9

I am floating in the darkness of my mind. I seem to be coming here more and more frequently in my dreams. My crimson counterpart is here as before, but he is more quiet than usual. He is pacing, brooding, I wonder why. I take advantage of his silence to look around at the sea of stars around us. I notice that we are not alone, faded images of other satyr are all around us. They are all different colors as well. My fur and skin are various shades of brown, like parchment with mud caked all over. I hear my mistress all around me, helping me make sense of things. Her voice is like wind making sweet music, echoing into my very being. I receive flashes, memories in my mind. I remember the satyrs I've seen before. They kept to small tribes of matching colors with limited but noticeable mingling. I remember my own color changing, not necessarily when my other self takes control. Could the color of my form mean something other than some sort of magical split personality?

My other self stops pacing, but he isn't looking at me. Rather, his gaze is upon one of the other, transparent, satyrs. This one has skin of dark ash and soot with fur of black and dark purple, with a few strands of his beard and mane curling and ending in stylized red thorn tips. My crimson counterpart walks toward this dark version and I see strands of energy form between them. I don't have to ask, I understand what I am seeing. The shadow magic we'd absorbed from Lilliandra. While Crimson could use this dark magic enough to absorb it, he is not compatible. As energy passes into the dark form, it solidifies and opens its eyes, revealing glowing red orbs that send a familiar chill up my spine. He looks...hauntingly familiar. When he stands, he looks to me with a horrifying smirk. While he shares my face, his fur, his eyes, that evil smile...he reminds me more of Lord Xavius than of myself. I want to shy away, but I stand my ground. The Dark version of me laughs and turns, holding out his hand and forming a black orb with two smaller orbs of green and red rotating within, leaving comet trails as they chase after one another in their tiny orbit. Around us, the transparent satyrs rise and copy him, but only the blue satyr across from the dark one manages to conjure anything. The blue satyr, still mostly transparent, creates a pulsating series of disks, like the rings of a planet, one red, one blue, and one a brilliant purple that shines a white light. The crimson version of me moves between them in a cardinal direction, pointing his hand toward the center, completing a compass rose of satyr across from me. He holds out his hand and creates a ball of knotted root with bright red flower petals sticking out haphazardly, similar to a choked lasher plant like the one I had created in the Moonglade. I held out my hand and formed a sphere of my own energy. It was unnervingly similar to Crimson's, except my ball of roots were a brilliant green with glowing white lily petals bursting out. The dark one spoke, and his voice reverberated all around us. His voice was deeper than my own, and echoed in his throat as if he were speaking with more than one voice.

"I am Xarun Bleakheart, born from from the black blood of the Bleakheart satyrs and powered by their dark rituals. I am chosen by our Mistress to wield the power of our enemy, and cast a shadow upon their souls. I willingly obey, for our Mistress hungers for demon's blood, and I shall gladly feast upon those who would subdue us."

A moment of silence followed Bleakheart's speech, followed by a rushing of astral winds. Our Mistress speaks, accepting him. The blue satyr speaks next, but I cannot understand him. His voice is twisted and muddled, and when he stops speaking, no wind blows. Apparently our Mistress has not accepted him yet, or perhaps he is not yet fully formed? I am still not entirely sure what I am a part of or what I am witnessing. Despite this, I get the feeling it is my turn to speak, and so I clear my throat.

"I...I am Xarun Moonshade, born...of treachery and torture. Mistress formed me to be her chosen one. I wield the power of our past, power granted to us by Cenarius and his father, Malorne. With it, I shall heal our wounds, and let loose the burning wrath of the sun and frozen flame of the moon upon our enemies. I shall make the very stars fall and turn our Mistress's enemies to dust."

I do not know what I'm saying, I do not form the words of my own volition. Much like a real dream, it is like my sleeping mind is privy to knowledge that I don't have, and I am as much spectator as I am an actor. The crimson version of myself chuckles at me, piercing through the veil of the dream and staring at me, as if he were mocking me for not being who I am in my dreams. The wind that is the voice of our Mistress howls around us, and I feel pride for having the loudest approval thus far. But now it is Crimson's turn, and I feel my blood go cold.

"I am Xarun...heh...sure, we'll go with Crimson. I was born of our Mistress's disappointment in us. I wield our power the way all power should be, regardless of who granted it to us. With it, I will tear the world and everyone in it asunder for our Mistress's delight."

Crimson is looking right at me. I feel an incredibly pain in my chest, like my heart is going to explode. I grasp at it, gasping as his burning eyes sear my flesh.

"I am your Nightmare."

When he says these words, I feel another sharp pain hit my chest. I feel like my ribs are being torn apart. It hurts! It hurts!

"Wake up!"

I feel a boot hit my gut with enough force to knock the wind out of me with a pathetic wheeze. I open my eyes and see Archdruid Lilliandra standing over me, dressed in new clothes. I do not know what happened to her old robes, perhaps the satyrs tore them apart, but now she wears some sort of silvery robe with shoulder pads and a cape to match. She also has a new staff, also silver with a crescent moon made of crystal glowing at its top. In fact, her robes had several tasteful crescent moons on it, and the symbol of the Tyrande's sentinels went from under her bountiful breasts down to her thighs. There were small hints of metal partially hidden in the shine of the robe and shoulder pads, and judging by the pain in my chest, I'm guessing there's some amount of metal in her boots as well. She makes ready to kick me again and I quickly scrounge and flail myself up off of the ground. She lets out an aggravated sigh and looks me up and down. "Finally. There's food for you over there. Hurry up. We've already been here too long."

I look where she gestured and see a dead panther. It looks diseased and I'm not exactly confident about eating it. I move over to it and smell the stench of fetid meat and I fight my gag reflex. I've had tainted meat, but this is just too much. I glance to my right and see a pile of dead satyrs, burned and smoldering. It seems that Lilliandra was quite busy while I was asleep. I also want to ask her about her new clothes. First, however, I need to do something about this meat. I glance over my shoulder to see if she's watching, but Lilliandra is already walking down the path back to the road. Excellent, a chance to use my power. She's no longer an archdruid and we're already in an area corrupted by satyrs. There should be nothing wrong with a little druid practice. I hold out my claws over the diseased corpse. I close my eyes, I concentrate. I feel the power of nature around me and I bend it to my will. I can sense this creature. It isn't disease that poisons the meat before me, it's corruption, fel and shadow magic of demons. I can purify it, cleanse it of this corruption. I should have a priestess help me, or at least have some water from a moonwell. I try my best and go without. I open my eyes and see green energy flowing from my fingertips. My heart sinks when I see a few strands of red and black mixed in with my magic, but despite my worry, the corpse seems to be responding. After a few moments, I use my claw to cut some of the meat and skin the ruined ruined leather from my meal. I taste it, and while it is still corrupted, it is as mild as the meat I was given at Raynewood. I can tolerate this much, and I eat.

Several minutes later, after I have finished my meal, I head down the trail and meet up with Lady Lilliandra. I ask her politely if she could catch me up on what has happened while I was asleep. She seems to ignore me and starts walking down the road. I am about to ask her again when she starts speaking.

"When I woke up, the first thing I saw was you. A pool of water had formed around you, I don't know where from. The water was pure, and I saw it eat at the corrupt filth you were coated in."

She was silent for a moment, looking down at the ground.

"We were all skeptical when Lady Tyrande claimed you were touched by Elune, that despite being a satyr, you were as graced as any priest. Now that I have seen it with my own eyes...I still cannot believe it."

She looks up then and looks around, as if to make sure we were still safe. While I am listening to her, I also have one ear listening out for any danger. I would not like a repeat of yesterday's events, despite what my Mistress says. After we are both sure that there is no nearby threat, Lilliandra continues.

"My clothes were ruined, the satyrs had torn them off of me. So I covered you in roots to keep you hidden and left for the new Silverwing sentinel base. I filled them in on what had happened and they gave me new clothes and some supplies. Also..."

She stopped then and looked at me. It was probably the first time she had looked directly at me with her own eyes since we left Moonglade. I wasn't ready for it and had to fight the instinct to shy away.

"There is a complication with our plan to meet with the Alliance and Horde. According to the Silverwing reports, several Alliance ships recently arrived carrying an army. The Barrens to the East is now a war zone, with the new Horde city, Orgrimmar, to the north and the Alliance base Northwatch Hold and Theramore city to the south."

This is disturbing news indeed. When last I saw Jaina, she was being quite friendly with the Horde. The orc mongrel didn't sound like Thrall. It must be someone else. Either way, if Jaina was with him, then she couldn't also be attacking them...could she?

"Maybe the Alliance and Horde are working together and this new army is...someone new? Maybe someone from that other continent of theirs?"

A loud explosion goes of then and it hurts my ears. We both turn toward it instinctively and we hear fighting along with more explosions. We look to eachother and she transforms in a puff of smoke, turning into a cat and melding into the shadows. I follow her lead and also shadowmeld, following after her. We soon come to the battleground. It looks like we found the human logging camp, but now it's overrun with fish people! Large serpentine monsters and small fish frogs are fighting against strange green creatures with large ears and metal contraptions. The fish frogs let out gurgling war cries as the green grell-like creatures let loose fiery cylinders that explode into brilliant colors and use small handheld contraptions to fire bits of metal lightning fast at the sea monsters. One of the serpent monsters throws a harpoon at one of the green ones, piercing some sort of metal pack on its back. Instantly the green creature explodes and sends a smoky trail upwards. Strangely, the creature is letting out a cackle, as if being blown up was...fun?

Lilliandra looks to me in out hiding spot and she whispers through whiskered lips to me.

"Those serpents...they are servants of the Betrayer. The Silverwings helped Tyrande fight them further north. We must help dispose of them."

I nod to her. I do not recognize the green creatures, but do vaguely remember them among the Horde ranks. Perhaps they were mercenaries? Either way, an enemy of an enemy could be a friend...right?

Lilliandra moves first, leaping from her hiding spot to pounce on a nearby serpent. She then quickly transforms back to her normal form and begins letting loose a barrage of solar wrath and moonfire. I have never used my druid powers for combat before, but I feel the power grow within me, old cobwebs being brushed away inside my mind. I raise my hands and feel power build up in my hands. They begin glowing brightly, yet it is a calm light and I need not close my eyes. It takes several seconds, but finally the power in my hand is ready to burst and I let it go. A beam of light shoots down upon Lilliandra's opponent, similar to her moonfire but much stronger as I cast Starfire and finish off the serpent. She looks to me, surprised. I suppose the last time she saw me use druid magic, it had been twisted to the point that she mistook it for some sort of corruption. I feel pride swell inside me that I could surprise her, but quickly remember what I was doing and run out onto the battlefield and continue. As I put down another serpent, I see one of the small green creatures begin aiming at me with their machine. I quickly realize the mistake in not announcing myself. Thankfully, I remember the horde war cry from the battle at Mount Hyjal.

"Lok'tar green friend! I am friend to Warchief Thrall! Let us dispatch these monsters!"

At the last moment, the green creature moved his weapon and fired at a nearby fish frog, killing it with a final gurgle.

"Well why didn't ya say so! Alright boys! Let's clean up this mess! Sushi's off the menu, I want'em fried!"

With a gleeful cackle, the green creature flipped a switch on his mechanical backpack and suddenly flame started roaring from the end of his weapon. On the other side of camp, I notice three large machines on legs being controlled by more of the green creatures. On one arm, a large blade is spinning very quickly. The goblins in the cockpits raise this blade up and then stand in the cockpits. They aim their weapons at the blades and shoot black liquid onto the blades. They then light small sticks and ignite the still spinning blades. I can hear them...singing...quite badly...

The nearby green creature shoots another fish frog and calls out to them.

"Good thinkin boys! Use the discs of Inferno on'em! Burn baby! Burn! Ha ha!"

These green creatures unnerve me...they're having far too much fun killing things...even if they are horrible fish monsters that serve The Betrayer. I try to keep up with them and finish off the sea monsters rather than let them burn to death for the amusement of these mechanically inclined imps. Thankfully the battle is quickly won. The one giving the orders near me uses one of the nearby burning corpses to light the end of some sort of cylindrical brown wrapping and sticks the other end in his mouth, letting smoke out of his nostrils.

"Alright boys! Enough playin around. Pick the place clean and let's get outta here before the cavalry shows up."

I see Lilliandra walking toward me as the small green man turns to me.

"Yer pretty good in a fight. Ever consider fightin in the arena? Bet ya'd make a killin'. So, how does a tree hugger and a demon know the Warchief?"

I tried to explain how I knew Thrall, but almost as soon as I opened me mouth he waved a hand at me.

"Ah who cares. Doesn't matter anyway, long as you're not an enemy, you're a friend. Right? Name's Gazlowe. Look me up if you're ever in Ratchet. Better yet, don't and save me the trouble. Now, 'scuse me while I high tail it outta here."

I am shocked at how quickly the conversation flew by me. I didn't even have time to...well do anything. I hear Lilliandra speak up next to me and I jump in surprise at how calm her voice is in contrast to the green man's.

"We were hoping to meet with the Alliance. Do you have a way to do that?"

Gazlowe stops in his tracks and looks at her, puffing smoke out of his nose.

"I don't know if ya noticed, but there's a friggin war going on. Hell, I don't even know who's in charge over at Theramore. Ya'd be better off talkin to the Horde...course it ain't much better there either."

Just then Gazlowe's eyes widened and then squinted a bit as he smiled, taking the brown wrapping from his mouth.

"Course...ya could go to Stormwind. Hear that's where all the Alliance people are going. I hear it's a big human city on the other continent, apparently demon's didn't get far enough south to do too much damage to it."

I get the distinct feeling that suddenly this Gazlowe person isn't so trustworthy. He's obviously trying to get something from us. But we don't have many options, and Stormwind sounds far enough that Staghelm wouldn't be able to bother us there. I look at Lilliandra and while she has that stoic look she always has, I can sense that she's lost in terms of dealing with other races. It seems like it's up to me. I look back to Gazlowe and sigh.

"I'm betting that you have a way to get us to Stormwind?"

Gazlowe chuckled and stuck the wrapping back in his mouth and continued smoking. He waved for us to follow and called for the other green men to start heading back. While he walked, he looking back to us.

"I sure do. I got a friend called Revilgaz see? He sees my neutral port city and says to me that we oughta have one on the other continent too. He's got connections that are just beggin to throw cash at him, but he needs supplies. Just so happens, I got the supplies he needs, even got the ships to send'em over. But ya know what I ain't got? Muscle. Now, Revilgaz has hired plenty o' people from his backers to protect his cargo once it gets there. But see, the oceans have been real dangerous lately, and not just cuz of the war going on. Nah, see those sea monsters, call themselves Naga, have been swarmin all over the damn place. So, I need me some naga exterminators what can kill them without burning the whole ship down in the process. Course I could just hire on some extra bums from the Horde, but then I gotta pay to ship them back home, and even then, cheap bums tend to die quick. But...if you're headin over anyway, I don't gotta pay extra for ya. Still, ya gotta prove how good ya are to Revilgaz."

He chuckles then and presses a finger to his forhead.

"And don't I know just how ya can do that, and make some pocket moolah for yourself in the process. Everybody wins and even better, Revilgaz owes me one. Whaddya say?"

I must admit, this Gazlowe seems to think very quickly. It only took him moments to find out what we wanted, how we could get it, and how he could profit off of our success. I shudder to think what his quick wit could accomplish in the face of an enemy. I look at his followers and wonder with some small amount of dread if all of his kind were such fast thinkers. If so, they hide their genius well, they certainly don't behave like particularly smart people. I think I see one of the machine pilots picking their nose. My attention is brought back to Gazlowe as he snaps his fingers and looks at us expectantly. I look from him to Lilliandra.

"I don't see how we have much choice. We can't go to Theramore with things as they are now, and the Warchief is sure to be too busy fighting to harbor us in his city."

Lilliandra nods and looks to Gazlowe. She accepts his proposal, but wants to know more before agreeing to anything. It is true, he was vague about what exactly we are meant to do in order to prove ourselves. As we continue to walk, I can hear the sounds of battle to the South. The smell of battle wafts with the wind, yet these little green men move so casually. He did say that they were a neutral party...perhaps Gazlowe managed to make a deal even in the midst of war?

Hours pass as we continue along the road to Ratchet. The land around us slowly shifts from forest to a vast savannah. As we continue East, the ground slowly grows harder, and craggy hills dot the landscape, blocking any extended view in any direction. Every so often we are called to a stop and wait for orc raiding parties to ride by atop fearsome wolves. Flying beasts overhead carry more orc and troll warriors to and from battle. It is clear that this is Horde territory. Yet Gazlowe insists that the port is neutral? It seems difficult to fathom Alliance forces ever being welcome anywhere near this place. Gazlowe tells me that this fighting started only the other day, and that he had placed his port directly between the two opposing cities, Orgrimmar and Theramore. That may be so, but it is clear who owns the surrounding area. It is late afternoon when we reach our destination.

My first thought upon seeing Ratchet is how compact it looks from a distance. As if you took as large a city as can be imagined and compressed it. Hundreds, possibly thousands of buildings, buildings built sloppily atop other buildings, all scrunched and pressed into a single natural bay. As I get closer, even the buildings look as if they were pressed and crunched together haphazardly. The architecture is so foreign to me that I cannot begin to guess what the buildings are for, nor where one building ends and another begins. As we travel down the street, I begin to realize what Gazlowe meant about this being a neutral city. There are humans, orcs, dwarves, trolls, even ogres and creatures I do not yet have names for all intermixed and mingling with one another. The guards and most of the people are more of the little green men like Gazlowe, but the citizens, shopkeepers, workers...I think I even see a few beings chained together as slaves, all different races. However, I notice a distinct lack of night elves. This confuses me, as night elves don't live particularly far away, and a fair number did leave with the Alliance forces. I ask Gazlowe about this oddity and he chuckles at me, lighting a fresh cylinder of brown wrapping...a nearby shop has them labeled as "cigars".

"Ah, ya noticed that, didja? Yeah, you two are what we'd call rare commodities in this neck of the woods. I know a few people who'd pay a small fortune to...let's say employ...people like your lady friend."

He then looked over at her with a crude smile.

"Not that I'd indulge in that sorta thing. You two are far more valuable with my current plan anyhow. But, if you don't mind a little...dirty work...you let me know. I know a certain dingus who'd pay hundreds just to borrow you for one night."

At hearing Gazlowe's proposal, I look to Lilliandra, my body tense. He cannot know her status, but still, to speak to an Archdruid in such a way! I see her hand clench, but her face shows no anger. Somehow, I fear that icy stare even more. She says nothing to him, but Gazlowe quickly looks away from her and shivers.

"Damn, I've been hit by ice magic wasn't as cold as that stare."

He says it under his breath, but he underestimates our hearing. I can tell she heard it too...I think I see a vein. Thankfully we reach Gazlowe's abode before he can say anything else to shorten his life. The building is quite large and in a relatively open area as opposed to the rest of the city, on a hill overlooking the harbor. At the base it looks like any other building in the city, but more floors made of metal plating seem to have been bolted onto the original building, with smoke stacks and pipe lines sticking out all over it. Two ogres with clubs larger than their employer stand in front of the door and with a sharp whistle, Gazlowe moves them aside. Inside, the building is as chaotic and disheveled as I had expected from the exterior. Wood and metal and brick are mixed with each other in the walls. There are two long hallways with doors of all different sizes and make, as if this building were made out of the spare parts of a hundred different projects. Directly ahead of us is a staircase jutting out of a wall that has no railing to keep you from falling off and back down into the main room, and at the top is a small but illustrious looking door seemingly made of silver and gold.

"Step into my office, Lady elf. We can go over the terms of our little agreement, maybe over some dinner? Your pet demon can wait in the foyer."

Wait...pet demon? Lilliandra looks back at me for a moment, but then heads up the stairs behind Gazlowe. I try to follow them and correct Gazlowe's mistake, but one of the ogre guards grabs me by the top of my head and pulls me back.

"Dah boss says you wait, soz ya wait or ya get da club!"

Part of me wants to rip this ogre's hand off and beat him to death with it, but I quickly stifle that part of me and tell the ogre that I will wait. He lets go of my head and I sit down. My mistress whispers her annoyance at my compliance, but I tell her that it is probably for the best that people believe that I'm Lilliandra's pet. I remember seeing orc warlocks fighting against the burning legion with demons of their own, and mages like Jaina having pets made of water and ice. If people thought that I was like that, it could probably save us a lot of trouble in the long run, especially if we're going to be in big cities like Ratchet or Stormwind for a long time. My Mistress agrees and praises me for this new idea of mine. It's been so long since she praised me that I wasn't ready for it and let out a growling purr without thinking. One of the ogres shouts at me to be quiet. In a flash I am on my feet.

Shit, I didn't do that. I'm not in control anymore. I hold my right hand up, my claws curled toward me and smirk. I can see that my fur has gone black. A ball of shadow energy forms in my twisted claw as I look at the ogre.

"I'm sorry, did you say something? Do you want me to kill you, you pathetic waste of flesh?"

The ogre raises his club and is about to say something, but in that instant I flick my wrist and send the sphere directly into the ogre's chest. He immediately drops his club and backs into a nearby corner, curling into a ball.

"No! No hurt poor Durg! Durg just doing job! Durg sorry!"

Bleakheart chuckles and taps his forehead with one pointed claw.

"You see, Moonshade? There's more than one way to get what you want. It isn't just heel like a beaten dog or murder like a wild animal. All it takes is just a little push."

He then points to the frightened ogre and forms another orb of darkness in his hand.

"You! Get out."

The ogre immediately gets to his feet and starts running out the door, running smack into the other ogres outside and sending the three tumbling to the ground. The one that Bleakheart cursed gets up, looking confused. It was as if he had no memory of being cursed. The other two ogres, on the other hand, look quite annoyed with their assailant and the three of them begin fighting. Bleakheart surrenders control to me and I quickly shut the doors, hoping the three of them won't realize whose fault it really was. It was strange, Bleakheart was completely different from Crimson. It was almost like he wanted to help me. I certainly am not fond of his methods, but at least it wasn't Crimson and the ogre was still alive...for the most part.

Gazlowe soon opens the door to his office and shouts down, asking about the noise and I look up at him. I tell him that his pet ogres are all fighting outside and he curses, running down the stairs. He pauses on his way out, telling me that my mistress is a real handful. I know he's referring to Lilliandra, but either way I find myself agreeing. My mistress blows cold air at me and I chuckle. It has been too long since my Mistress and I have been on good terms with one another. I hope it lasts. I am pulled from my thoughts as Lilliandra makes her way down the stairs and speaks to me in a low voice.

"Gazlowe gave us one of his guest rooms. We'll be sharing. Apparently he thinks your my pet."

She gives me a strange look with those cold eyes of hers and turns, waving for me to follow. I guess negotiations are over for now. Just as well, it is getting late and I am both tired from walking and hungry. I wonder what goblins eat?

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I'm stopping this chapter a little early to ask a question of the people who are reading and enjoying this. From here on out, you've gotten a general taste of my writing style and I'm curious, should I have more smut in this story, less, or keep it generally the same with things getting saucy, but never beyond the narrative? Please comment with your opinions! I will be keeping them in mind.


	10. Chapter 10

Starting off with smut, skip to the line if you don't wanna read it. Happy Holidays! ^-^

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When we arrive at our room, there is a high elf manservant waiting for us. He bows to Lilliandra and opens the door for us, revealing a beautiful, if a bit gaudy, room. Sparkling purple transparent cloth hangs down in several areas, failing completely to hide a princely bed and pillows all around it, as if to accommodate many guests for nocturnal activities. What floor I can see is made of some sort of reflective material which glows from the dimmed red and purple flames of a golden chandelier. To the right of us is a desk with a large mirror and a full body mirror next to it nearly as big as the desk. The furs at its base tell me that it isn't just for making yourself look nice in the morning. The more I look at it, the more it reminds me of a more colorful version of Queen Azshara's favored accommodations. The manservant asks Lilliandra if she needed any of his services. By the look in his eye, I doubt he means traditional servant duties, but Lilliandra doesn't even look at him as she passes. She orders him to leave for the night and bring juice and fruit at sunrise. I can't help but smirk at the look of surprise and frustration on his face as he leaves. Ha!

The moment the door was closed, I saw Lilliandra's shoulders slump. I hear her mutter to herself, but I can't quite hear what she's saying. Finally, she pulls one of the cushions from behind the curtains and pushes it up against a wall. She then begins taking off her robe, revealing linen white undergarments, a small night shirt that is held up by her breasts and panties. I try to look away, but directly across from her are the mirrors, reflecting her backside. She looks at me with annoyance. I know that her nudity doesn't bother her, so it must be my reactions. I can't help it. when I look at her, I remember when she was under the control of the Bleakheart's dark magic, I remember her daughter's teasing. I feel a strong urge to tackle her, to rip the clothing off of her and have my way with her. My heart is beating out of control and I start to panic, feeling movement between my legs.

"Would you stop that!"

I am shocked so much that I lose my balance and fall over. I look to Lilliandra who is looking at me, not with hatred as I expected, but like a disapproving parent, her hands on her hips.

"Ever since Lady Tyrande left you at Moonglade, you've been nothing but a sniveling crybaby. I've never seen such a large, imposing creature so constantly fearful. You're like a bear who thinks it's a rabbit."

She walks over to me then and pokes me on the forehead, giving me a full showing of her cleavage.

"You killed several demons in Felwood, slaughtered all those satyrs, and I heard you even aided the Alliance during the war. Yet at the same time, whenever I look at you, you look ready to jump at the next shadow you see. You're so strong, what are you so afraid of?"

While she isn't angry, her disapproving look scorches my face. Of course, my eyes are darting between her face and cleavage. I know she can see me looking, and that does nothing to help the anxiousness I feel. I've never heard her talk so much.

"I...I'm afraid of myself. I don't always control myself, and it frightens me. I didn't kill those demons, or those satyrs. I didn't attack your daughter. There's a part of me that wants to go wild, to do...lots of things. It's hard to resist it, and when I lose control..."

I'm all too aware that as I'm talking, my member is growing. I feel it start to take its weight and rise as I stare at her bosom, my heart beating in my ears. However, she doesn't move away, and she doesn't stop staring at me with those ice blue eyes. Her hand moves from my head to a shoulder and she lowers a bit so I have to look at her eyes, which seemed to have soften.

"I understand. We Night elves feel all manner of temptation. If we use arcane magic, our bodies change and grow hungry for more. When we take up druidism, we feel the call of the Emerald Dream, but we also feel a darker power, a sort of nightmare, calling us from just out of reach. I have heard that many priests and priestesses also feel a similar call to darkness, they call it a Veil of Shadow over a precious light."

As she talks, her voice slowly becomes more soothing, and I feel the presence of my Mistress trying to comfort me. This surprises me, as I would have thought my perverted Mistress would be trying to encourage my lustful panic. I find myself able to look at her, and though my member is still growing rigid, I no longer hear the deafening drumbeat of my heart in my ears.

"You're a satyr, a kal'dorei fallen prey to dark magic. It changed your body, but you are no less kal'dorei. I see that now. You resist that pull so strongly, even though you look as though it has already taken you."

She smiled then, something I had never seen her do before. Then she moved closer, and embraced me in a hug, pressing my member between us, nearly reaching under her shirt, her breasts softly pressed against my furred chest.

"But in your fear, you've forgotten how powerful you are. You are one of Elune's Chosen. Heed her, and she will not lead you astray. Besides..."

Her other than moved up then, and began rubbing just under the head of my engorged cock. My entire body tensed at her touch. A pang of fear pierces my heart, but she kisses my cheek and it seems to melt away.

"Elune is the Mother Goddess. Sex, and every act of it, isn't corrupt. It is natural and pure. We were told by Tyrande that you had spent thousands of years imprisoned underground. We were concerned that after spending that long being unable to lay with anyone...well it was only a matter of time."

She started to lower herself then, sliding down. With a level of grace I had never before witnessed, her garments came off, revealing her breasts and smooth nethers as she moved, fluid in motion as if she'd perfected it to an art. She stopped at the head of my cock and kissed the tip gently.

"Why do you think I sent my daughter to you? We druids make for wonderful pets."

She took my member into her mouth then. I was already so rigid that she wasn't able to get more than a few inches past my head into her mouth, but she seemed used to dealing with large members. Her tongue danced under my head. I could feel my Mistress aiding her, massaging me with hands like a warm wind on my body. Lilliandra brought her hands to my excess member and began pumping the underside with one hand while the other went to my heavy balls and massaged them. She took her mouth off of my member and licked the underside, gliding it up her face gently.

"I never understood how someone this...big...could be so timid."

She moved up then, pressing her breasts around my member and began drooling as she licked up and down, drenching my cock as it moved between her breasts. Her hands moved to her breasts, mashing them around my cock and massaging her dark purple nipples as her mouth returned to my cock.

I had been silent this entire time save for grunting. I felt so awkward to be handled so expertly after so very long. I was close to shooting my load when we began, but now I was sure she could feel my member preparing itself. Suddenly, I felt my orgasm rising. I grabbed her head with one claw and held myself up with the other. I held her in place as I let out an inhuman roar. My whole bottom half shivered and moved out of control as I was hit with powerful surges of pleasure over and over. I felt cum shoot from my long cock like a cannon, but she pushed herself down on my cock, bulging her neck and taking every drop. It must have only been seconds, but it felt like an eternity before I fell back, my arm giving out.

She slowly pulled herself from my cock and smiled, wiping off her mouth. She rose then, looking down at me as she moved into position above me, guiding my head toward her entrance with one hand, taking my wrist and pressing it to one of her breasts with the other. She smirked devilishly at me and all of the sudden I began to understand. Her daughter was a stronger druid than me...she was ready for everything I was going to do to do. Her mother, the woman above me was an archdruid. As strong as she claimed I was, she was far stronger. Her smile wasn't that of a lover, nor as a parent...but of a master teaching a student.

"Don't hold back, Xalune'dorei. I want to see the full extent of your power."

With that, she began sliding down and I became aware that my position as pet demon couldn't be more accurate.

She moaned deeply, her eyes fluttering as she lowered herself on my cock. I felt resistance all the way down, feeling myself stretch her soaked canal and at the end, I pressed against her uterus, causing a small bulg in her lower belly. She stayed still for several moments, catching her breath before starting to move. Her strength is incredible, slowly spearing herself on my member, propping herself on my chest with one hand while the other massaged her free breast. I watched her hand moved and tried to copy with my own, but my hand is much larger, and ends with claws that scratch at her perfect smooth skin. She encourages me through heavy breathing, asking me to be more rough with my massages, to play more. I am still halted by anxiousness, but I try to obey to the best of my abilities.

With a few more trips up and down my length, she begins to speed up and leans back as she does so, taking to her feet and moving her arms back. She begins yowling with pleasure as she begins picking up the pace. My hands go to her hips instinctively and my legs tremble, wanting to help. Her hand moves to my leg and I can tell she feels it. He smacks me hard on the leg, causing the muscle to move. I thrust upwards on reflex.

"Yes! Stop holding back!" She lifts up and back over, putting her hands on my chest again. She looks me in the eyes and I can see that she's only just begun.

"If you hold back again, I'm kicking you out. Now fuck me!"

I nod and hold her a bit more firmly on her hips and begin thrusting upwards. I am far more clumsy than her, and my thrusting is erratic, but her moaning is encouraging me and I try to find a rhythm.

"Yes! That's it! fuck me harder! Harder! Harder!"

My Mistress shoves me then like a harsh wind and I roll on top of Lilliandra. Her hands immediately move to her breasts and her legs wrap around my waist as I continue thrusting into her as fast and powerfully as I can, jostling her with every thrust. After a few thrusts, she raises her arms around my neck and lifts herself up, pressing her breasts against my head. It is lucky that night elves are so tall. I do not think a human could do that without sacrificing some of my cock.

"Play with my breasts and keep fucking me. You're so good...so big!"

I obey her instructions and take a nipple into my mouth and gently nip at it before opening my mouth a bit wider and sucking in more of her ample tit flesh, playing with it with my tongue. A spark of crimson flashes through my mind and I feel my tongue split down the middle, becoming forked like a snake and I find I have much more control as well. This causes Lilliandra to gasp.

"Oh Goddess! Yes!"

I feel her begin to shudder against me and she clamps down harder on my cock. Liquid begins pouring from her nethers as I continue pounding her. I look up and see her eyes begin to roll back in her head as she continues moaning and howling with pleasure. The slight numbing of my first orgasm is beginning to subside at a terrible time as she is still squeezing my cock and I swear I can taste something sweet on my forked tongue. I am quickly becoming excited again and I can tell Lilliandra knows it.

"Fuck yes...cum! Cum in me! Fill me! Make me yours! Yes!"

I can hold out no longer and I wrap my arms around her as I cum inside her, my second orgasm no less intense. My legs give out, but my hips keep thrusting out of my control as I cum. I quickly fill her and feel her lower belly stretch some before torrents of thick white seed pour from her filled entrance. I hear her let out a gutteral groan and feel her grab my horns as another orgasm rips through her, her legs no longer holding my waist, but outstretched behind us, twitching as mine are. I feel strength leave me completely, so I roll over, letting her lay on my furred chest so as not to crush her. She is still and quiet for several moments, but then she looks up and me and picks herself up. She begins gently moving herself up and down my member, which was starting to soften but now quickly hardens again. My strength is gone, but when I look at her, I can tell that she still has plenty of energy left. I realize once again that I am in the hands of an Archdruid, someone far beyond myself. This was going to be a long night.

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 **For some reason, these lines are kind of hard to see, so i put some bold words in as well just in case.**

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After a thankfully dreamless sleep, I was awakened by the sound of knocking. I snorted as I awoke and realized something warm had affixed itself to my face. When I tried to open my eyes, I saw nothing, so I reached forward and tried to feel what it was. My hand felt flesh, and I immediately remembered the activities preceding sleep last night. We had eventually fucked ourselves over to the bed and, after yet a few more rounds, fell asleep in afterglow exhaustion. Lady Lilliandra's chest was stuck to my face and her upper body was nestled in my hair between my horns. Her arms were wrapped just over my ears and her legs were wrapped around my chest just under my arms. How the hell she got like that was beyond me, but I get the feeling that moving in one's sleep is normal for druids. After all, when we shift into an animal form, it is easy to mistake that sensation as one of an eventful dream. The knocking continued and I looked up at the sleeping archdruid who was wrapped around my top half.

"My lady...there's someone at the door."

My voice was somewhat muffled as it was obstructed by her generous mounds, but something must have gotten through because I heard her moan and then slowly release me, as if she were dreaming of being some sort of tangled vinework.

" You deal with it, Thero'shan..."

With a yawn and a shiver, she rolled off of my face and curled away from me. Slowly I got up and stretched. The knocks were starting to get faster and I was starting to get annoyed.

"Stop that knocking, we hear you."

I spoke loudly, but I tried not to shout to allow Lilliandra to keep resting. As I reached the door, I realized what she had caused me and paused. Thero'shan, honored student. Did that mean that during our romp she had decided to train me? Or perhaps she was dreaming that I was someone else? I made a mental note to ask her about it later as I opened the door. The elf butler on the other side blinked in surprise, then followed my disheveled fur up to my face and practically leapt back. Strange...he saw me last night with Lilliandra...was I really that much of a mess? The high elf was stammering and stuttering about having brought something, and I see that he did bring basket of fruit and juice that sat next to him. I lowered and picked up the basket and told him quietly that he was too early. I moved slightly and pointed inside. I saw the high elf see the beautiful backside of Archdruid Lilliandra and, while still terrified, I saw part of his fear give way to lust. I wanted to laugh at him. After last night, I'm convinced that Lilliandra would tear this pompous elf into shreds, and that's if he managed to get in bed with her. I turned and closed the door behind me, shutting the elf out. I sat the basket on the table and sighed, moving back toward the bed. I couldn't eat that fruit, but I also couldn't leave to find meat without Lilliandra. If Gazlowe thought that I was some warlock's pet, then he thought Lilliandra my warlock, and I couldn't leave her side. That mistake offered me some small amount of protection that I didn't want to surrender. So I sat down on some cushions and waited.

Lilliandra was awake within the hour, getting up and stumbling over to the fruit without bothering to get clothed. She ate breakfast quietly, without acknowledging me as I watched her silently. After breakfast, she seemed to become more alert, and the icy coldness had returned to her gaze. When she rose, she walked with confidence and shamelessness back to the cushion where she'd thrown her clothes and began getting dressed. Once fully clothed, she looked at me and asked if I was hungry. I obviously was and let her know it, but as she was leaving, I didn't stand all the way up. I got to my knees and cleared my throat to get her attention.

"Pardon me, Lady Lilliandra, but there are a few things I like made clear before we leave...if you don't mind?"

She paused and looked as if she was thinking about it before finally turning around and silently looked at me, as if waiting. I got the feeling I should just go ahead and speak.

"This morning...you called me Thero'shan. Does that mean you're going to train me? It wasn't long ago you told me I shouldn't be trained, that my power corrupted its surroundings."

There was silence for a moment, but then she nodded.

"Yes, your practice in the Moonglade was endangering what little progress we made against the Legion's corruption. But now we are not in the Moonglade We aren't even in our forests anymore, and I was stripped of my rank as Archdruid. Until that changes, and unless we return to a land scarred by the Legion, I see no reason why I cannot train you. Besides, you definitely need it. You have much latent potential, and potential in a druid is more dangerous untrained than when it has been honed, especially in a satyr. In that respect, I believe it for the best that I be the one, as my specialty is in healing, not in causing harm. When we deal with Gazlowe, and certainly when we reach this Stormwind, you shall learn from an Archdruid."

I lowered my head until it nearly touched the floor in a bowing position.

"I look forward to learning from you, Shan'do."

I raised my head and slowly started getting up.

"By the way, are you alright with Gazlowe thinking I'm your pet? I mean, Ratchet is a pretty open minded place, but I'm sure it's the only reason he let a demon like me into town."

Lilliandra rolled her eyes at me and turned around.

"My reputation would have meant nothing to these goblins even if it were still intact. I care not what he thinks, as long as it gets us where we need to go. Now come, we need to find you something to eat. There isn't likely to be any nightsabers or imps here for you to hunt. Try to keep your blood lust in check."

As I rose to follow her, I could hear my other selves arguing in my head about whether we should explain our full situation to our new Shan'do. I personally get the feeling she wouldn't understand or care, but I should at least tell her that last night sated any need our Mistress had. Though she is silent, I can feel her presence, and her satisfaction is beyond any of our murder sprees. Part of me is grateful that our Mistress is not a violent one, but merely has a high expectation of us. I only hope that we are able to live up to those lofty expectations more as we become stronger.


End file.
